Believing
by puzzlepuzzle
Summary: When Yzak Joule meets Shiho Hahenfuss for the first time as children, it's hate at first sight. But as war pervades into the lives of the two, their fates become intertwined and he must get Shiho on his side. Not for anyone, but for Yzak's own sake.
1. Chapter 1

I don't own GS/GSD, if not, I would have made Shiho's hairstyle less like Yzak's so people wouldn't think that something was queer about both of them. R&R please.

Prologue

The children were playing in the courtyard which belonged to the Joule's extensive estate. And for a minute, Ezalia Joule saw a flash of silver and knew that her son was with them.

The trees weren't shedding their leaves yet, so it wasn't so cold and he could still run and play in simple clothes, but his mother had forced him to take a scarf. She was always protective of him after his father had died, but he wasn't sure if the man in the photo his mother looked at sometimes was really his father either, because Yzak knew he didn't really have a father at all.

Yzak Joule was the result of a sperm his mother had used to conceive him.

Once, he had heard some servants gossiping about it, the mistress of the house had a boyfriend she was going to get married to, and then she'd lost him in the battle right after the Naturals engaged the Coordinators in some clash near the PLANTs, and then she had agreed to conceive his child using what he'd left behind in case he died. So now she was a saddled with a child who had a temper nobody had seen or wanted to see before.

The six year old Yzak had heard it and snarled behind the pillar concealing him. They said that about him and his mother didn't they? Well, he'd prove they were correct; he had a temper nobody really wanted to rouse.

So he had leapt out screaming like a mad person and biting any hands he could see and his jaw had been sore after that even while he tried to kick himself free when the butler grabbed the screaming boy from behind and hauled him off the terrified servants.

His mother had slapped him for that but he didn't tell her he did that because he didn't want anyone to talk about her that way. He just stood there and scowled after her hand left a stinging mark across his pale cheek.

Yzak Joule had inherited her silver hair and pale skin, so sometimes he wondered what his father looked like, but she didn't say anything even when he had the cheek to ask her about it. She never said anything about his father. She was always busy at work, but he didn't mind because he didn't really like talking to her anyway.

His mother never really understood him, so he didn't want to try and talk to her to make her understand, but then he liked to sit some place where he wouldn't be disturbed and see her staring into space, looking into the distance at something he couldn't see, because she looked like she was at peace when there were moments liked that for her to enjoy, and he enjoyed those moments as a young boy too.

The six-year old adored his mother although she wondered if he hated her at times when he became a little monster, snarling and spitting at everyone. But he never did that to her, so that was a form of encouragement in some respect.

And when she was in a good mood, Ezalia Joule would take him into her arms and stroke Yzak's hair silently, thinking that she would have to spend more time with him so that he'd understand her too. But she couldn't keep the promise to herself, the war was going to start if they didn't do anything to prevent it, and sometimes, she wondered if she really was on Siegel Clyne's side and working for peace to prevent a war with the same people who had murdered her beloved in cold blood while she waited desperately for him to come home to her.

And when she had been twenty-four and heard the news that he'd been killed along with the rest just because he had been a coordinator, they didn't even care that he had been a gentle person who always cared about others, she'd gone and cut her long, beautiful silver hair into a neat bob. And then she had entered the government to serve the people, and there was a man whose words appealed to her more than Siegel Clyne's, although she knew that Patrick Zala was a threat if he wasn't kept under control properly.

Ezalia Joule had met her colleagues' children, Patrick Zala's son and Siegel Clyne's daughter before, they were a year younger than Yzak, so they must be about five now since she had seen them a year ago. The girl had been motherless since Clyne's wife had died in childbirth, but she was very well brought up and had impeccable manners although she was always smiling and never said anything much.

Siegel Clyne's daughter had pink hair, that was the thing that stood out the most about the girl, and Ezalia suddenly wished she had a daughter like the girl too, she was so pretty and angelic, obviously her father treated her like the apple of his eye, but then from what she had seen, and his child wasn't spoilt at all, quite the opposite actually. What was her name again, Ezalia tried to recall it, but then she gave up eventually and her thoughts ran to her own son.

But unlike the well-behaved girl, Yzak had bitten all the servants at least twice each, with a few bonus kicks around the shins and then he'd snuck into a particular maid's room and thrown all her things around. She asked him why bit he refused to say anything, so she had gave him a thrashing he'd remember so he'd never try and do it again.

'Was he being mischievous or being anything boy were supposed to be like?" she wondered forlornly, then she remembered Patrick Zala and Lenora Zala's son, what was his name?

Oh Athrun Zala, that boy was an angel, he adored his parents, always trotted after them like a puppy, his green eyes like Lenora's, very beautiful and sparkling. And that boy was never rude, he always greeted her when he saw her, he'd even tried to make friends with Yzak but Yzak had bit him because he said he didn't like Athrun's hairstyle or something silly like that.

She didn't know Yzak had seen her looking at the other two children with something like affection in her blue eyes, and he had been insane with jealousy. She didn't know he wanted to be cuddled the way she cuddled the other two children and she was terribly ignorant of the fact that he loved her more than anything in the world.

So she sat at the window thinking of Yzak and feeling awfully helpless about the five-year old boy with startling blue eyes and silver hair and pale skin. He didn't look like his father much, if you could say that her beloved was a father at all, but then the details didn't count, he'd been born with his father's feelings for her and that was enough for Ezalia Joule.

She'd been disappointed though, when she had seen the child and known that he would inherit very little of his father's face and features, even worse, few of his father's traits, and she knew she was being selfish, but then she had took the baby in her arms and something as hard as steel in her heart had melted instantly.

Why couldn't he be more normal like other children? Yzak didn't have to be as well-behaved as Siegel Clyne and Patrick Zala's children, he just needed to be saner in general, Ezalia Joule thought with a heavy sigh.

And his playmates were quite terrified of him although they did like him in general, he was a very loyal child who always stuck up for them, but he never told them he liked them, in fact, he yelled at them when he was in a bad mood.

They didn't mind much though, because they knew he was fond of them like they were fond of him although he didn't say it, that was the magic of children and their playmates, they always seemed to forget that he had wanted to bite them the day before. The children all knew he would fight for them if they were threatened, and that made them loyal to Yzak too.

And she gazed out of the window she had stood at when Yzak's father had told her that he loved her very much, trying to ignore the pain that shifted across her chest and threatened to make her weep. Yzak was playing outside, he'd meet the Hahenfuss' child soon, and Ezalia desperately prayed he wouldn't try to bite the child and that he'd like the child enough to get along.

Then a servant knocked hesitantly on the door, and she was forced to stop gazing at her five-year old son playing outside and look at the maid Yzak disliked terribly. She didn't know why actually, the maid was quite pretty and pleasing to look at even though some had told her the maid like to gossip. But as long as she did her work, Ezalia didn't care what she said, so she wondered briefly why her son had made life so difficult for the maid.

"Yes?" she said softly as the wind blew some short silver strands across her cheek.

"The Hahenfuss family is here," the maid said quickly, and then she bobbed a curtsey and opened the door and promptly stood aside for Ezalia to walk down the stairs to receive the important guests.

When she descended regally, a man with very dark brown hair, almost black really, looked up and smiled, and she offered a hand and he shook it firmly.

Steiner Hahenfuss wasn't the sort ZAFT or the PLANT Supreme Council wanted to mess with, he was a child prodigy, perhaps because he had been a first generation Coordinator like her and he was terribly intelligent.

Ezalia heard he had solved a supposedly impossible linear equation with a single solution by the time he was eight, and then he had gone on to work for PLANT and develop systems that could allow PLANT to grow its own agricultural produce even though they were in deep space.

The plans so far were that the system would be tested and pilot-ran in Junius Seven although nothing was confirmed yet. It would be a long time before it was put into action because of the secrecy of everything. The existing chairman was sitting on the fence, listening to both Siegel Clyne and Patrick Zala at the same time, and of course, with their radically right-wing and left-wing political styles, they were all stuck in a rut.

But she had to discuss the plans themselves with Steiner Hahenfuss since she was gong to enter the supreme council soon, it was her job to work through his proposal for the launch and see if it could be improved.

And although she really wasn't keen to play host to anyone, Ezalia had to smile and bear it, so she had invited him for dinner with his child, or son, she heard, but nobody really knew. His wife had died two years ago, but then he'd been so grieved by it that he had thrown himself whole-heartedly into his work that he'd produced some of his best works yet. Tragic, really, she thought wistfully, but then, weren't all Coordinators?

"Pleased to meet you," she said pleasantly and scowled inside just because she felt like being rebellious for the day.

"Same here," he said with a slight but distinctive accent, and she realised that he probably came very directly from German lineage; his name also said the same thing about him. Then she realised she had been staring too long at him for what seemed polite, and she quickly shook of all thoughts and continued, looking straight into his dark eyes and noting that he must have been quite handsome when he was younger.

"While we discuss the plans and proposal you've drawn up," she began quickly, "Why don't you allow your son to play with mine? He's outside messing around with the leaves."

Then she realised that he was alone and peered behind Steiner Hahenfuss to see if his child was shy and hiding behind his tall father, but then Steiner laughed, and she was again, amazed by how lovely and warm his laugh was.

Not what you'd expect from someone who sank into manic or chronic depression at some point, she thought dryly. He must have an angel for a son if he could have gotten a grip so quickly after that. The son was probably nothing like Yzak, she thought with an inward sigh.

"Ah, you're mistaken, my child's a girl, I don't have a son, just a daughter," he explained briefly, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he looked at her dumbstruck face. Not many could catch the famously cool, unruffled Ezalia like that, but then the lady was obviously quite formidable, she looked at him and winked to cover up her little slip and said, "So the rumors were wrong then."

"Yes," he said cheerfully enough, "I don't really bring Shiho around the place like the others do, she's the homely sort who likes to stay in some corner and fiddle with machines and toys and that sort of thing."

"Chip off the old block then," Ezalia commented charmingly, and then she smiled and led him to the room she used as an office in her house.

"So she's at home now?" she said casually, thinking how problematic Hahenfuss' reclusive child was. Maybe the child had driven him to depression too; maybe the child wasn't quite an angel if she was as queer as her father described her to be.

"Good heavens, no," he said hurriedly as he sat down and opened up his briefcase, slipping some papers out, "She's playing with your son in the yard like you said he was."

Then Ezalia dug out the sight of some children playing with her son in the yard from the abysses of memory and counted the number mentally. Two boys were the neighbors' children, the other her assistant's son who regularly came over to play, and with her son, that would make the usual five, but then the last one…

"Ah," she said mildly, trying to hide her panic when she thought of the way Yzak had bit Athrun Zala when the younger boy hadn't done so much as to try and make friends with her son, "So Yzak must have met Shiho Hahenfuss already."

Out in the yard, Yzak had been perfectly happy playing with the other boys, and then he had seen something moving behind the bushes and thought it was a maid trying to take revenge for the mess he'd created in her room after he caught her telling the others bad things about his mother.

So Yzak had continued to play noisily and shout to the others while moving very sneakily backwards towards the bushes so the maid behind wouldn't notice he had discovered her, and then with a terrible snarl, he had pounced onto the person behind the bushes and hauled her out.

But it wasn't the maid he disliked intensely; it was a girl much shorter than him with long dark brown hair sticking out at queer angles, giving her a very bedraggled look. He was so horrified at having pulled out the wrong person that he continued to stare stupidly at her, and he noticed that she was very slight and tiny like a fairy-child, so she must be much younger than him.

The girl looked terribly startled that he had hauled her out so roughly although she had allowed herself to be pulled out without much resistance at all, perhaps she had been too surprised to react, and she blinked at the sunlight that suddenly rushed at her pale face. He stared in horror and tried to take his hands away from her shoulder where he had yanked terribly at her and she had shrieked a little in surprise, but then his hand lay discriminately by his side now, and his playmates began to giggle and point.

"You've treated a girl unkindly!" one of the boys chuckled as they hurried to where he was standing, his silver hair contrasting magnificently with her dark hair.

'I-I didn't," he growled, trying to recover his lost dignity, "I wanted to haul out the person who I thought was eavesdropping, so it's not my fault."

"We'll tell your mother," another teased, not quite meaning it but just wanting to irritate Yzak.

"You'll do what?" he screeched as he rushed madly towards his playmate, but the playmate laughed and ran around the swing while he gave chase, and the hapless playmates started laughing until they all had to clutch at their sides while the girl looked bewildered.

And Yzak remembered while he chased the boy silly enough to provoke him that the girl he had never seen before in his life was staring at him, and he tripped over and landed neatly on his face.

He was glad it was facedown so the sand would hide the glorious blush he had on his pale cheeks, and then he was afraid that all of them would laugh at him, but then they were already rushing over, concerned and helping him to stand and brushing off the sand from his clothes and apologizing meekly for taking it too far.

He would have yelled at them some more, but he was far too interested in the girl who had been hiding in the bushes, so he trotted swiftly to her where she was staring at a patch of grass near her feet and blithely ignoring all of them.

"Where do you come from?" he said curiously.

"From PLANT," she answered readily enough, and he wanted to blow up and screech, "Idiot!" but he stopped himself in time although his friends were suddenly looking edgy. They knew that he was near his explosion point, and if the girl wasn't careful, she'd go under straight fire.

"I know that," he interrupted impatiently, and then he gave up and asked instead, "What's your name?"

"Shiho," she said after a pause, and then she stopped looking at the grass and lifted her eyes to meet his, and he was startled by how vivid the purple of her eyes were. They reminded him of the violets he had trampled on when he was in a rage actually.

"I don't like your fringe," she continued on in a very emotionless voice, and he bristled and screeched, "Yours is the same as mine!"

His friends were now around them and pressing their palms up and down in the air as if to stop her from continuing, but she was either very silly or she was very, very brave.

She looked at him with wistful eyes and said quite fearlessly, "I used to like my fringe. But now that you have my fringe, I don't like it anymore."

Then quite suddenly before he could scream and bite her in his rage, she turned to one of the others and said fearlessly, "I got him mad."

He stood there gaping with his arms flailing about madly while his friends all stared and goggled blindly at the girl who they had met entirely by accident and had managed to rile him up which admittedly wasn't very difficult to do.

But Yzak heard her whisper, "Sorry."

Then she resumed staring at the grass patch on the ground, and the five-year old boys all thought that she had to be mentally retarded or insane or something like that, but Yzak, suddenly fair-tempered again, heard a bell ring from the distance and turned around regretfully to them and said sulkily, "I've got to go back for tea now. Tomorrow, will you all be here?"

They looked at each other grinning and turned to him.

"Need you ask, Yzak?" one replied.

And then the four boys who regularly met up to play laughed and turned around and ran back to where they'd come from, and he was quite sorry to see them go.

But when he turned around, the girl was looking at him, and for the first time, he noticed that she was wearing a very fine dress with white socks and pretty shoes, so she couldn't have been the cooks' daughter or any servant's daughter for that matter.

And he saw that although her hair was messy, it was long and lustrous with sheen to it, and he suddenly recalled that his mother had warned him that another boy might be joining him to play that day, so he'd better keep his teeth to himself.

But this girl wasn't a boy, he though confusedly, in fact, she looked like a lost princess although she wasn't remotely pretty like Lacus Clyne who had seen once and thought that she was the prettiest girl he had seen, but Athrun Zala might have been prettier than her of course. That boy was pretty enough to be considered a girl, he thought with a snort, an insult to all boys indeed. But this girl, what was her name again? Ah yes, Shiho, she had very piercing eyes, and he wondered what his mother would say if she saw the girl herself.

Shiho was really like a lost princess because she had a lost look about her but then he could feel she wasn't the wishy-washy sort that he absolutely abhorred.

"Are you lost?" he said abruptly while she stared unflinchingly at him.

"No," she said without hesitation, "I just need to find my way to the Joule Mansion."

"So you are lost then," he cried triumphantly, "Because if you have to even find your way to something so obvious, then you must be bad with directions."

"I'm not," she cried angrily, looking indignant as her eyes widened and she shook her head furiously, "I just needed to find the last thing my father asked me to find before I go back to the Joule Mansion."

"What's that?" he said, forgetting to insist that she was lost because of his curiosity.

She had resumed staring at the grass again and he had even tried to see what she was looking at because it seemed interesting enough, but then she suddenly looked up at him, tilted her head so the fringe swept out of her eyes making them stand out to him more than ever, and Shiho said confidently, "You."

So Yzak stood like a statue, quite frozen and dumbstruck, but then he heard footsteps coming their way and turned in time to see his mother heading their way with a tall man behind her.

She looked quite urgent when she called hurriedly, "Yzak!", and he noticed that the man behind her was looking fondly at him. Fondly? He'd show him a thing or two after he got a chance to bite him, but then Shiho was running past him and standing next to the man now, and he stared at his mother in surprise and demanded a bit rudely, "Who's that?"

Ezalia didn't notice his tone because she was so ruffled, something she wasn't used to being at all, so she led him by his shoulders until he was face to face with Shiho who had been led to face him by the tall man, her father, he assumed with a scowl.

"Yzak," she said sweetly, although there was something like a warning in her voice, "Meet Steiner and Shiho Hahenfuss."

"Shiho," the man said indulgently as he kept his hands on the girl's shoulders while she peered up at him, "This is Ezalia Joule and her son Yzak Joule."

He felt his mother's hands pressing heavily on his shoulders, so he sighed and permitted himself a bow, but then his head crashed terribly into something hard, and he cried angrily, "Oww!"

Shiho had bowed too at the same instant when he had, and their heads had neatly collided and struck each other's painfully.

He looked up, rubbing his head furiously to ease the pain and saw her wincing slightly.

Quite forgetting that he was supposed to be polite, he yelled, "You're supposed to curtsey not bow, dumbass!"

His mother was gasping, no doubt shocked that he could use the word he had heard her use while on the phone one day, but Shiho Hahenfuss looked his straight in the eye and said defiantly, "I don't want to. I'm going to bow if I want to; you can't make me curtsey for shit."

The meek girl he had met was gone in a trace; Yzak knew that she was probably stranger than what she already seemed there and there. Maybe she was bipolar or something, he wondered briefly, quite forgetting that his mother wondered that about him sometimes too. He hadn't know what bipolar meant when he had heard it once, so he had gone home and asked his mother what it meant.

Her father looked horrified that his daughter was using foul language he'd been suing when the machine had crashed on him, but then the bell rang again and they were ushered off quickly to the table and their parents tried to pretend their children were not capable of using such language at six and five respectively. Both grown ups cursed themselves in private for ever using foul language in front of the children and hence giving them an opportunity to learn it for themselves.

And throughout tea while the grown-ups talked, Shiho Hahenfuss and Yzak Joule glared at each other, hating each other terribly.

So that was their first encounter, and when they left, Yzak declared he never wanted to see the dumbass again. His mother had threatened to smack him after that, but he didn't care.

Such a queer, beautiful child she was, Ezalia felt something stir in her as she saw the girl sit quietly in her chair and look silently at everything around her. It was a pity that Yzak didn't like her very much, although one could never tell whether he liked someone or not.

And Ezalia sighed and looked at her son who was outside trampling on some violets.

He had screamed after her guests left that he didn't want to see Shiho Hahenfuss come near even by a ten-foot radius.

But neither Ezalia nor Yzak Joule knew that Shiho and Yzak's first encounter wasn't going to be the last one, and Yzak didn't know that in time, he would grow to hope that he would meet Shiho Hahenfuss and be with her for every day of the rest of his life.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD, but that means I get to play around with the characters, no? Please R&R!

* * *

Chapter 1

"I want you to calm down, Joule, and let go of Diesse now," his teacher said furiously, "Or I will tell your mother you broke another chair this afternoon."

That made him shut up and let go of the little jerk's collar and put his fist down although it was still curled tightly into a ball. That teacher was an idiot too; he'd get his revenge one day. He'd find some sharpnel and get to work on the car if he could spare the time. And Diesse was in trouble too,Yzak Joule wasn't the kind who'd take insults lobbed causally at anyone close to him, not least his mother.

"I know you've been home schooled on your life," the hapless man began slowly, trying to ignore the flash of rage that shot across Yzak's face, "But you've got to learn how to treat others properly-,"

"And make friends and not lose your temper so much," Yzak snapped at the same time as the teacher. Then he glared at the teacher and stuck out his chin obstinately.

The grown-up stared in surprise at the boy, had he really memorised whatever he always heard when he got into fights? Then he remembered that Yzak Joule always got into fights, so it wasn't a surprise he could duplicate the admonishing talks after that. After all, the boy had an excellent memory with a capability as a Coordinator to remember things repeated after the second time,and being scolded for fighting wasn't exactly Yzak Joule's second time either. More like the twentieth-thousand time actually.

"What did Diesse say to you that made you want to fight him?" he said carefully, thinking that Yzak was going to be a real problem if he didn't handle the boy carefully. Granted, the boy was a genius, a really fast learner and a whiz at his studies and sports, especially, physical ones, but his temper, oh that really turned him into a monster.

"I didn't want to fight him only," Yzak said angrily with a streak of pride flitting across his sharp features, "I fought him and I was going to win. Dare you deny that?"

"No," the teacher said helplessly again, "Alright, you were going to win in the fight, but why did you want to win the fight in the first place?"

He was trying to be patient with Yzak Joule, the boy was testing his limits without really meaning to, but that didn't make him want to throttle the boy as much as realising Yzak Joulehad so much going for him but could lose it so easily by simply flaring up. If this went on,Yzak would face some issues.

"Because I hate to lose," Yzak replied immediately, his blue eyes angry slits in his pale, handsome face. They looked like sapphire pieces placed in snow because of his silver hair too, nobody could say Yzak Joule or his mother didn't look like they were from noble lineage.

"No, not that," the teacher said tiredly, "Why'd you pick up the chair and bash it and then turn on Diesse?"

"Because-," Yzak began immediately, then a look of anger crossed his features again and he clamped his mouth shut determinedly.

"Yes?" the teacher prompted, praying that a miracle would happen for once.

"I don't have to tell you!" Yzak bristled furiously, then he stood his ground even though a ten year old like him only reached up to the teacher's waist.

"But then I won't be able to understand you," the teacher said again, wearily scratching his neck and feeling very sorry for Yzak Joule. He knew the boy adored his mother, perhaps his classmate had picked a fight and egged him by saying something bad like that.

"You don't have to, nobody said it was your bloody business anyway," Yzak snapped rudely, then he glared at the teacher with hatred in his blue eyes.

"Ah," the teacher said testily trying not to punch the child, "So maybe it had something to do with your mother."

And Yzak Joule stared at him, his eyes like daggers and he said in a low, angry voice that hid some pain in it, "Don't say anything to my mother."

"I won't," the teacher assured him hurriedly, he didn't want his car scratched and he didn't want his top student to become a demon everyday in class, "But I care for you and I want to make sure nobody bullies you."

"I'm not a princess," Yzak retorted brusquely, "And I don't need your help in protecting myself in case you haven't noticed. And if you want me to apologise for beating up Diesse, I will apologise for not bashing him up better."

And he scowled an ugly scowl that did no justice to his face and spun on his heel and left.

'Really', thought the teacher, mopping his brow, 'that was the problem with Coordinator children.'

They grew up so quickly that they were like teenagers by the time they were ten, and that meant angst and adolescent fights, something Yzak was quite splendid at actually.

Yzak Joule was the son of an important member of PLANT's Supreme Council, Ezalia Joule. The woman was very striking, beautiful really, with her silver hair and blue eyes, and very dynamic. Too dynamic and maybe that was the problem. She was so busy, Yzak probably had to fight for her attention, and he did, literally. But he wasn't a trouble-maker on purpose; he just got into fights very easily because he was quick to take insults and a very loyal child. Or youth. Or whatever.

The teacher sighed again and looked at the contact list with Ezalia Joule's name in a slot, a blank one next to it for the father's name. Maybe the lack of a father figure was the problem, no man-to-man talk or whatever people said worked for boys and their fathers. And perhaps that was another root of Yzak's terrible tendency to lose his temper.

Nobody in Yzak's class didn't like him, even with all his intense temper and unbridled ways, in fact, they adored him. His frankness, bordering on brusqueness, made him an instant hit with all his classmates, but then he was so talented and terribly liked that some were jealous. And it was well known that he had no father every time the parents were invited to meet with the teachers, and his mother couldn't come most of the time, so usually, Yzak would collect his report book with his perfect grades all by himself.

But then that day, he would be in an exceptionally good mood.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why he was so happy. It wasn't he grades or anything like that, it was the fact that he could bring home something for his mother and try to make her happy.

And all the teachers would discuss the silver-haired Yzak with his sharp wit but terrible temper. They would all feel sorry from the very queer background that he had, but then nobody would ever say he was a bad or horrid child, because he was always loyal and had pride and some kind of quality that made everyone love him secretly. He could be sly at times when he handled the questions they asked to find out more about him, but Yzak Joule wasn't without his honour and valour.

Outside, Yzak sat at the stone ledge facing the field where his schoolmates were either eating their lunches or playing ball games. They shouted to him to join in, all but a sulky Diesse, but Yzak shook his head and didn't go over. He wanted to check if she was were he thought she would be.

And when nobody was looking, he snuck to the laboratory he had almost blown up last week because he wanted to prove the potassium had to be stored under oil unlike what Diesse had declared when he said the oil was useless, and then he peeked into the window and saw Shiho at the side, staring out of another window.

He wondered if he should talk to her after the quarrel they had a month ago when she came to his house with her father. Yzak didn't really see her often at school because they were in different classes in different forms, she was about a year younger than him actually, and she didn't accompany her father to visit her mother all the time either.

But a month ago, she had arrived, and he had been trying to fix his QUINd, a sort of laptop, when she had suddenly materialised out of nowhere from behind him in some sort of flowery dress.

He had screeched and dropped the QUINd, and it had broken apart, and then he had lost it and yelled furiously at Shiho, "Why'd you appear like a ghost and make me drop it? Now it's broken!"

"Sorry," she said, not looking sorry at all, 'But maybe if you weren't so jumpy then you would have noticed me standing behind you for a while."

"Are you saying it's my fault?" he hissed, shoving the broken pieces aside.

"Isn't that obvious?" she said emotionlessly, and he had to take a step back to see her properly instead of merely seeing a head poking over his shoulders and her violet eyes looking straight at him. He felt like stamping on the violets the gardener had planted again.

Shiho Hahenfuss had grown a little taller since the time he had mother, which was about a year ago anyway. Her hair was long too, and she had tied it neatly in the same style as he had seen when they first met with a black chord, but her dress had become more flowery since then. She looked very pampered in the blue silk with the square pattern around the hem and waist, but then he could see a tear in the side and something that looked a little like engine oil. So she wasn't that well-brought up after all, he had decided.

"You tore your dress and spilt something on it," he said nastily, gesturing carelessly at the abysmal state when he looked at it closer.

"I did, didn't I?" she said coolly, not even bothering to look where he pointed, and the way she had stood still and not bothered with even looking embarrassed made him curious why she was so strange. Some other girl might have squealed in horror that he noticed or tried to be bashful, but she just did what she had done and stood there looking at him.

And Yzak was unsettled, and he had quickly left, and when he peered over his shoulder, she had been standing where he had left her, thoughtfully staring back at his retreating figure.

He had been so creeped out that he had ran off, and he hadn't seen her again, well, not up to now, where she was, tinkering away in the laboratory.

"Do you want to come in?" she said suddenly, turning around to look at him through the open window.

"No," he snapped hastily, "I'm not going to."

"Alright,' she replied without any emotion in her voice, and then she turned back to where she had been sitting and carefully poured something into a tube.

Yzak stared for a while, quite fascinated by the chemicals she was mixing together, and then he hesitated for a bit and finally asked, "What are you doing?"

"Mixing chemicals," she said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Don't insult my intelligence," he growled impatiently, "I asked, what you are doing?"

"Stirring chemicals," she said in the same tone and proceeded to do so.

He was quite startled by her impersonal manner, especially when his other classmates would have eagerly explained everything to him and tried to get him interested in what they were doing. But she simply ignored him like he was of a lower degree than her, and that riled him up instantly.

So he hopped in through the window and landed neatly in a sort of crouch near the benches, but she didn't bother even looking at him, she only furrowed her brow in concentration and continued to stir the liquids together, and he realised from the odious smells that she was mixing fuels.

And quite forgetting to be angry with her for being so hoity-toity, he made his way over and peered curiously over her shoulder.

"Why are you mixing fuels?" he asked abruptly.

"Finally," Shiho replied in a different tone altogether, eventually looking up at him and startling him with her violet gaze, "A question worth answering."

And her sureness and deft fingers annoyed him tremendously and he barked rudely, "You aren't so smart yourself, Hahenfuss!"

"No," she said very guilessly, "But you are, and that's why you shouldn't waste your time with worthless questions that ask the obvious."

And she turned back and poured everything into another flask and bottled it securely. Her answer stumped him, and he was silent for a few moments before he managed to find his tongue and say something again.

So he stared at her, dressed in a simple white shirt and the customary navy pinafore all the girls wore, and he noted how it had faded a little unlike the same navy jacket he wore. Perhaps she spilled things on it too often and the pinafore had to be washed so much that it had faded.

And when Yzak spoke, his tone was awkward, something very strange since he had been so sure of himself previously. But Shiho Hahenfuss was going to give him a run for his money, and that was why he spoke again.

"Why don't you come over more often?" he asked, cursing the strange flush he knew was on his cheeks. She looked up at him again and smiled very suddenly, and he was surprised how carefree and child-like she was when she smiled, a whole difference to her serious eyes and unsmiling mouth, really.

"Because I'm not invited," she answered simply, "My father doesn't ask me to go much to meet the children of his colleagues anyway."

"Why?" Yzak interrupted eagerly; keen to keep the conversation flowing now that he had loosened her tongue.

"I don't know, I'm not him," she said quietly, although it wasn't a bitter tone or anything like that. And she fiddled with the label and wrote something on it, and then she pressed I securely to the glass and stood up.

And without another word, she left, and he stood staring at the flask she had left, and when he looked up, she was gone.

Yzak knew better than to run after her and try to egg her into talking more to him, because he knew Shiho Hahenfuss only spoke when she was ready too. And he was more eager to befriend the only child of the Hahenfuss family, not because his mother would have liked him to, but because he wanted to make Shiho a friend for his own sake.

But the next time he met Shiho Hahenfuss, it would be the last meeting they would have in a long time to come.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD or their characters. R&R please.

* * *

Chapter 3 

Yzak looked at the Naturals' photograph, grimaced, and then flung them out of the window with all his might.

His mother had received some photographs from her secretary, but then the secretary had accidentally left it on the table when she had gone to fetch an urgent call, and Yzak had seen what she had been holding. The photographs were of peaceful looking Naturals with happy smiles on their faces, some children some adults. Some coordinators who were supportive of peace with Naturals had obtained these photographs and sent them to the Supreme Council in a bid to make Siegel Clyne, the newest Chairman more rooted in his belief that Naturals didn't want to see Coordinator blood spilled.

It was a pack of lies in Yzak's opinion. He knew that his mother kept a photograph of her own in her room, he peeked in sometimes and saw her staring forlornly with a lost expression at something. Once, he had spotted a girl with long silver hair smiling and waving for the camera with somebody next to her, but the light had been glinting in the wrong direction, and he couldn't see his father's face. And Yzak had enough sense not to ask his mother to show him the photograph, because he didn't want to make her share something that was left for only her, he wasn't selfish enough for that.

So the seed of anger and hatred, along with scorn and plenty of distrust grew in his heart, and as he saw the family of Naturals, his mind was filled with a red haze, and he silently picked the pieces up like they were poisonous spiders and threw them out of the window. When his mother came back, he wouldn't tell her where they'd gone. He didn't want her to see those pictures and feel pain.

Then he watched his mother hurry into the room, her heels clicking loudly on the marble floor, and she called loudly, "Where's the documents you wanted to show me? There's nothing on the table!"

And Yzak watched silently from afar as the secretary hurried over in a fluster and then when he had seen enough, he turned and left to go to the shady area outside where the dappled sunlight and trees would hide him for awhile.

But when he got there, he heard a voice with a edge of German accent and recognised it as Shiho's father's voice. His heart started beating very quickly because he didn't want anyone to know he was trying to hide, and so he doubled into the bushes and ran deeper into the trees to his little hiding spot he liked to think of as his own, but there was someone there, the footprints in the soft soil weren't his.

"Who's there?" he called out threateningly. Maybe the servants had found out where he disappeared to for hours at a stretch when he wanted to be alone.

"Shiho," was the reply, and she stepped out in full view, and he saw something was strange about her.

The clothes she wore were clean, no oil spills, no tears, impeccable, something you'd expect more from someone who cared more about appearances and not Shiho of the Hahenfuss house.

And her hair was loose, it wasn't tied at the ends anymore, and it hung about her shoulders in long streaks of brown.

Her face was quite pale, but maybe it was the lighting, since her eyes were emotionless and she regarded him with a stoic nature he had always seen her with.

"Why are you here?" he said curiously, quite forgetting to be angry that someone had invaded his only private spot.

She would have answered, her lips parted to say something, but then something flashed in her eyes and she regarded him silently and turned away, striding past him to a bench Yzak knew someone had carved for his mother. But he didn't know who it had been, just that his mother never sat on it.

And Shiho was silent for a long time as she sat there with her hands folded in her lap and her fringe covering her eyes, and Yzak knew it wouldn't do to force her to speak just yet.

So for once, he was patient and he sat down too on the other far end of the bench, not quite realising ten year olds weren't supposed to have burdens and be troubled like the grown-ups did, but if he had realised that, he would have cursed the fate of being a Coordinator. But he didn't know anything at that time, he was simply ignorant.

And when he looked at her, he knew Shiho, the girl with a stone heart, was crying, although she wasn't looking at him. And he turned and fled because he didn't know how to comfort people when they cried, and he didn't realise yet that children grew up, forced to be grown-ups, when war threatened to loom into their lives.

Yzak didn't hear about anything until much later when his classmates had told him about the Hahenfuss family leaving from Aprilius to do research or something like that, and he had gone home and asked his mother, "Why hasn't the Hahenfuss housemembers come here for a long time?"

Ezalia had looked directly at her son who resembled her more than what she had expected or had even desired for and sighed.

"It's a lie," she said finally, hiding the tone of pain in her otherwise cold voice, "There's no more research or anything, Junius Seven has already been launched as an agricultural PLANT, and there isn't a need for research anymore."

"Then why did they have to go?" he asked helplessly, inwardly cursing how he felt lost even when he hadn't talked much to them or needed them anyway.

"Shiho's father will live out the rest of his days in a place where there's no threat of war," Ezalia said calmly, putting her hands in her lap so Yzak wouldn't see them tremble, "And Shiho will accompany him until he dies, and then she will inherit whatever her father has left for her."

"What is he sick from?" Yzak demanded angrily, not believing that the strapping man was helpless and being sent of like that. No wonder Shiho had been crying, and he was enraged that he hadn't comforted her even if he was well aware that he was likely to fail.

"You don't have to know," Ezalia cut in very swiftly, "But your friend will leave-,"

"She's not my friend," he snapped furiously, and Ezalia looked carefully at his face and saw rage in his blue eyes and sighed.

And in one fluid motion, she had thrown down everything and grabbed him in a tight embrace, then she abruptly let go of her unresponsive son, not realising he was too shocked to hug her back, and retired to her room, making sure the doors were locked. Only then would Yzak calm down and realise that he had lost the chance to say goodbye to a friend. But he was ten years old only, and war would soon be coming, that they foresaw in the near future, and something in her knew like a basic instinct that Yzak would no longer be a child. It wasn't just the coming of age at thirteen, it was the way his eyes held hatred children weren't supposed to feel, and the pain that flitted over his features when he thought nobody was looking.

And so she took out the photograph she always kept in a drawer locked and only for her eyes, and then she said softly to Yzak's father, "Steiner Hahenfuss isn't going to die of cancer. He's dying because of heartache, but he will be glad to go and leave this cursed world behind."

Then Ezalia sat by the window and saw Yzak racing out to the forest nearby, and she knew that he would be somewhere crushing violets again, and her heart wept for the headstrong, volatile but fragile son she had bore. She knew he was hurt that a friend was leaving even if he denied adamantly otherwise, and then she got on her knees and prayed to whoever who was listening.

And this was her prayer, that Yzak would one day learn to be true to others and himself.

But as time passed, Yzak grew more eccentric in his temper although he was still admired and liked by most he met, and when he was twelve, the world made the transition from a cradle of gloom to a womb of death.

And Ezalia would see the photographs they sent her and feel her blood run cold in her veins.

In C.E. 65, Ezalia received a photograph the Supreme Council sent to all its members.

A concert cellist in a beautiful lilac gown and her dark, lustrous hair flowing loose died that day, shot by Naturals. Her cello had stains akin to those on her dress. Red blood everywhere, a silent scream ripping through her face. Ezalia Joule looked away and ordered that the photographs would not be shown to her son, but then the images were featured everywhere; it was sooner or later that the images would reach him.

Then in C.E. 66, there was a photograph they gave her of a Coordinator child's head detached from its body and lying forlornly amongst a heap of Coordinator bodies in a Natural-dominated area. This time, Ezalia locked herself in her office so nobody would see her trying not to wretch as bile rose in her throat.

In C.E 67, the footage of the war that was escalating, the same war they had fought for eight years, showed the bodies of soldiers on both sides lined up like dead fishes. Ezalia thought of Yzak's father and wondered if she would die before the whole world did. Maybe she'd see Yzak's father sooner then, and maybe her son would find peace for himself.

In C.E 68, they brought her news that the last of the Hahenfuss house would return to Aprilius, and Ezalia withheld the information from her son. What would he have done anyway? Go comfort Shiho Hahenfuss? Not likely. And perhaps the unknown frightened Ezalia more than anything, she somehow suspected that Shiho Hahenfuss held some kind of power over her son, not very great, but enough to change her son a little.

And she thought of Steiner Hahenfuss, dead, but with a peaceful smile. And then Ezalia knew he was well aware that he was leaving for a place more peaceful and a place he would love more than the world now. Then the radio started playing Lacus Clyne's song, and the voice singing seemed to heal some wounds in Ezalia's heart.

In C.E. 69, her son graduated at the top of his form and Ezalia cancelled half the meetings just to make it there. But he didn't even bother looking at her when he bowed and collected his results while the whole school cheered and applauded, he looked past her and she saw his eyes were cold blue shards that she realised, mirrored her own. And her heart felt like it had been ripped out.

And when they got home, she asked him to say something since he had been so silent, and he looked at her with the same eyes she had and said steadily, "I want to enlist."

Her heart had stopped for a moment and then she slapped him, leaving a stinging mark across his face like she had never done after he had been seven, but he had no expression, he didn't scream back in her in rage, he merely lifted his head proudly and took his certificate and shredded it into halves then quarters then eights.

But he didn't enlist for her sake, and she prayed she would always have him with her.

In C.E. 70, Junius Seven was blown up and Ezalia watched along with the world as it was blasted from its orbit into a million fragments and her heart shattered along with it too. Patrick Zala bore the pain of losing his wife well, he didn't weep but then Ezalia could see the insane glint and unforgiving edge in his eyes. She knew it well herself, everyday, she saw it when she looked in the mirror.

And his son had returned from Coppernicus a while ago, and then he had been announced as the fiancé of Lacus Clyne, but his mother had died and Ezalia knew his father was changed as well, changed like the way Ezalia had been when she learnt her own beloved had been murdered in cold blood.

They both wanted revenge.

And his son signed up for ZAFT, legal age at fifteen, and she knew she couldn't keep Yzak away from the military too and she bid him farewell three days after Junius Seven no longer existed. Her son, aged sixteen and handsome but with the ever present edge about him, merely looked at her and smiled, and she was stuck by how cold his smile was.

She wept when she was alone in an empty house with only a photograph left to treasure as war blossomed like terrible blood-red flowers in a field of snow. The maids pretended not to hear her sob, and she was grateful nobody asked her why she was so weary of the world these days. And she worked in the office, knowing her son was preparing to kill and learn how not to be killed.

And then Ezalia knew she had been the catalyst in forcing Yzak to grow up and she knew she had lost him then. But she had people keeping an eye on Shiho Hahenfuss, and she knew they would meet again.

Because Shiho Hahenfuss had been left wihout anyone to fend for her even with a fortune her parents had left, and Ezalia had sent someone to take the girl under her wing as a promise to Steiner Hahenfuss until the girl had suddenly told the guardian one day, with steel in her eyes, as the guardian had recounted to Ezalia, "I want to enlist."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer:

I don't own GS/GSD and we all know Fukuda didn't exactly make use of Shiho or Yzak's apparent presence, so too bad, there goes the anime and we're left with fanfiction.

* * *

Chapter 4

He panted and paused to swipe the bangs out of his eyes, and he glared at Athrun Zala who merely stared blankly at him and said emotionlessly, "Are you alright, Yzak?"

"None of your damn business," he snarled at Athrun although he knew he was doubling over in pain because of the punch Athrun Zala had thrown.

And he stood straight, ignoring the pain in his lower abdomen when he had unsuccessfully dodged the punch Athrun had thrown at him during the practice session.

"Come now," Dearka said hurriedly, pulling Yzak aside, "That was only a practice; you know he wasn't serious about trying to have a go at you."

And Yzak shoved away his friend's hand and hissed in a terrible rage, his eyes no longer blue but almost black with hatred, "Precisely. He wasn't taking me seriously."

Athrun stared at the silver-haired coordinator with something that looked like regret in his green eyes and chose to turn away, and Nicole Amalfi ran up to him and quickly led him away in the opposite direction from Dearka who was leading Yzak away. And as they passed, emerald eyes met sapphire and Yzak stared unflinchingly at Athrun who only looked past him.

It had been hell at first, Yzak barely could speak when he had left his home to join ZAFT, but something ran threw his veins other than blood on the day when he had watched Junius Seven explode. It wasn't only blood, it was hatred.

And he went on believing he would live better if he learnt how to kill.

Five years ago when he had still been schooling, Yzak had been introduced to a girl whose name he hadn't remembered, but he knew she was a Natural. For one, her colour was too common and her eyes too simple and dull a colour, and the teacher had later warned the class to treat her well even though she was the only Natural in the class.

Yzak didn't bother trying to find out why she was even there when tension was already looming everywhere, but then he saw her getting her hair pulled by some boys in his class and then they took her things and dumped it over her head while she cried for help.

And he would have gone to her aid, but then he recalled the way his mother's eyes had looked every time she held the photograph in her hands, and he had stared at the Natural who was crying by then and he had simply walked away. He knew Shiho had been standing somewhere nearby in the crowd that had gathered to watch and jeer, and Yzak knew she had seen him leave like that, and that had filled him with self-loathing for a while before he forgot the feeling.

Now, since he was left to himself and his own thoughts, even with the company of his friends and comrades, he still hated everything. And the thing that frustrated him was that he hated himself the most.

It wasn't the training; the heavens knew he was born to be there. Even amongst the Coordinators that had signed up as recruits, he knew he was going to be outstanding, it wasn't just the leaps that were higher of the knife throwing or gun-using that was more lethal than anyone else, it was only that the hatred flowed more freely in his blood.

He hated everything, and he was becoming bloodthirsty and terribly competitive, even more so than he had already been.

As he had sat on a chair in the bathroom one day watching the water being drawn up slowly forhis subsequent bath, he had said on a whim to his own reflection, realising how his voice had deepened, "I hate everyone around me."

"I hate the Naturals," he whispered painfully, seeing the eyes that were like a stranger's to him.

"I hate the Earth Alliance," he hissed, placing a pale hand on the mirror and watching someone in the reflection look at himself with hatred he knew he was channelling at himself.

"But I hate myself the most," he said finally, then he had turned away, and he didn't emerge from the water he sat in until one hour had passed and he felt he was clean enough.

And he met others there and admittedly made friends although there was the grimness in the air when they trained. Everyone tried to be cheerful and joked frequently but they all knew they were going to die if they weren't careful. Most of them didn't mind dying though, they had lost people they had lived for, and they wanted to make sure their remaining lives were pent killing the people who had made their lives agony to live.

They lived believing that they had no right to be happy for anyone's sake, least of all their own.

Yzak saw violets outside the training grounds one day by pure chance, and he had suddenly remembered the Hahenfuss house and wondered if he should avenge Shiho Hahenfuss the way Athrun Zala was trying to do for Lenore Zala. He knew that they had gone to Junius Seven with Athrun's mother, and probably, all three had died.

But he felt no hatred that day as he stood still and silently watched the violets, delicate purple framed in leaves of lustrous green wave slightly in the breeze. There was only emptiness left when he approached the violets, meaning to stamp on them the way he would have on something like a disease, but then he stopped and finally left them where they were.

But a month after he had enlisted and he was starting to gain a reputation of being an outstanding recruit that preceded him along with his companions, Rusty McKenzie and Miguel Aiman had ran in excitedly and told them there was a new batch of recruits joining them.

And he wasn't interested, he didn't care as long as they didn't get in his way, but then the commanding officer had made them salute and welcome the new recruits, and then he had caught a flash of violet and long dark hair and his heart had stopped for a split-second.

Shiho Hahenfuss was in the midst, one of the many who were lined up in a salute, and she was taller with longer hair he knew she cut only to keep healthy.

It was tied up at the ends with a cord, it was still loose and hanging limply, and her eyes were still the same violet shade, but they held hatred like his, perhaps more intense, perhaps more pain than anger, but he knew she wanted revenge too.

He never got a chance to speak to her after that, he had to concentrate on his training because he wanted to graduate as fast as possible and wake up from the nightmare and fight. Fight for something, fight for anything.

Yzak just wanted to fight.

For what? He didn't know, but he lived believing that it was the only way to live properly, and at that time, that was good enough for him.

And he hadn't even felt glad at the realisation that his childhood companion, he still didn't think of her as a friend, was alive and kicking, well in fact, since the person she sparred with was doubling in pain at the other side.

And some things didn't change, for Yzak would see her sitting quietly while the others joked and talked, and she wouldn't join in unless she was forced too, instead choosing to sit silently and read a book.

Once, he had failed to resist the opportunity to peak at what she was reading, and he had seen that she was carefully studying the layout of a GOUF. It puzzled him since she wasn't the kind who seemed like she would only go as afar in ZAFT to be a mechanic; she seemed more like the sort who would be a bridge officer. But he never spoke to her; he only watched silently and felt emptiness like a cancer spreading everywhere.

Yzak had lived believing that she was dead.

Sometimes he would wake up, thirsty with a parched pair of lips, and when he got water, he would pour it away in horror because bile would rise in his throat when he looked into the cup. He saw blood in the water sometimes but he knew it was his imagination, but he couldn't drink after that until he could find somewhere to calm down first.

And Yzak grew bitter as he watched his mother appearing to make speeches that echoed whatever Patrick Zala was saying, and he knew they hinted against Siegel Clyne, but then the Clyne supporters weren't the pushover sort, in fact, there were more of those than any others around, and it helped that Lacus Clyne, the princess of PLANT, had almost everyone on her father's side too.

Yzak had met Lacus Clyne once when Athrun had been out with them on one of their days off, and she had appeared to sing at the convention hall, and Athrun had been obliged to go and meet her and introduce his friends from ZAFT.

Miguel had been enamoured with the girl, and that Yzak was very sure of, besides, Dearka liked her gentle ways and Nicole simply hung onto her every word. He wasn't so sure about Rusty though, Rusty was always stoic anyway, and strangely even, Yzak could sense that although they were on good terms, Athrun Zala wasn't quite madly over his heels and in love with the lovely songstress the Coordinators all literally worshipped.

Maybe it was because he had no time for that sort of thing like Yzak too, they both wanted to quickly get down to what they had joined ZAFT for.

And it was by believing that they were there to kill which made them stay alive.

And the graduation and promotion came quickly too, and at that time of the year, the tress were already blooming beautiful showers of pink flowers that fell onto the ground each time the wind swept its branches.

That year, there were six redcoats amidst all the newly promoted recruits.

Those who graduated at the top of their form, thus earning them the right to wear the redcoat under Le Creuset's team were as followed:

Amalfi, Nicole.

Elseman, Dearka.

Zala, Athrun.

McKenzie, Rusty.

Joule, Yzak.

And the last was Shiho Hahenfuss.

Yzak wasn't shocked to know that she would be a Redcoat too, she was well-versed in her tactical advancements and critical thinking, and although she wasn't as powerful as the rest in the gun and knife aspects, she was fairly competent. Above all, she had proven very early that she was a magnificent pilot of Mobile Suits, almost superior compared to the rest, including Yzak.

And so she was admired for her competency and frankly, excellence when it came to the piloting and Rusty kept trying to talk to her to get closer. Yzak knew the boy was very interested in her, but he shut his mouth because it wasn't any of his business and he didn't give a damn either. But something bothered him terribly every time she ignored Rusty, it was almost as if she didn't give a damn either.

So one day before the ceremony to present them as redcoats, he approached her at last and said awkwardly even though she didn't look up from her book, "Don't you like Rusty?"

He could sense her flinching inwardly although her expression, or what eh could make out from it, was quite inscrutable.

And she flipped a page in a mandatory way and said calmly, "I do."

"Alright then," he said a little accusingly, "why are you always ignoring him?"

She looked up and chewed her lip thoughtfully, and he noticed how pale her cheeks were, almost as if she had been away from the sun for a long time, and Shiho replied easily, "Because I don't want him to waste his time."

"What do you mean?" he shot back, a wary look inscribed in his eyes as he fiddled with the knobs on the stiff cuffs of his sleeves.

"Nobody here has a right to be happy," she said emotionlessly, putting down her book and standing up abruptly, "And if there's nothing else, I'm going."

"Where?" he said in bewilderment and Yzak felt a little bit of anger that she was being so mild and emotionless about the whole situation when he had thought she was dead for so long.

"Nowhere in particular," she answered readily, and she would have left if he hadn't suddenly reached for her hand and pulled it to keep her from going away.

And so they stared at each other unflinchingly and Shiho was disturbed by the look of pain in his eyes, and something cold melted away deep inside and she wanted to comfort him even though she was hurting very badly inside.

"Did your father die on Junius Seven?" he said softly, and she flinched because she felt like a dagger had been thrust into her chest and wrenched inwards.

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes not meeting his, "But that was before the attack. His remains were blasted apart though, I came back two years ago, and I came back to Aprilius one after his funeral.

Things were becoming stranger than he'd ever imagined them to be. Surely his mother might have heard of this, why hadn't she said anything to him? And surely the creator of the agricultural system on the agricultural PLANT would have his death announced at least? Why wasn't anything said or done? But he had other things to be concerned about, and he shook his head violently and narrowed his eyes at Shiho.

"Then why did you come to ZAFT?" he hissed, outrage at her blatant disregard for her own life and her foolishness.

"I don't have anywhere else left." She said simply and then she pulled her hand out of his grasp and looked at him squarely in the face, tilting her chin up regally while she surveyed him.

Yzak could not wrench his eyes away from hers and then he said, hating himself for feeling pity for her, "You could have approached my mother or anyone."

"No," she said.

There were many ways a person could say no. She could have hissed it with rage, angry at the way he had insulted her pride, she could have said it with the sorrow she must have been feeling, but she said it simply like he had asked her whether it was going to rain.

He was baffled and stared, then he found his tongue and snapped, "We aren't cold-blooded monsters to our own people!"

"No," she said again, and her eyes were cold now, "But I don't want to be a burden on anyone."

"So you joined ZAFT to get yourself killed?" he said in outrage, not caring that his voice was getting louder and louder and Dearka was suddenly nearby watching as if on alert to drag him away by sheer force if necessary.

"I didn't join to get killed," she said in a weary voice, "I joined like I said before, because I have nowhere left to go."

And she turned and marched away, but he had seen something falter in her eyes and the suspicious sheen to the violet. And he had intensely regretted goading her into such a pathetic sate when all he had meant was to talk to his friend.

He regarded her as a friend now although she wasn't aware he did, but she was like a ghost, wistful and nonexistent and existent and time, and then he would see her after that and grow bitter that he could never catch hold of her and make her belong to him for a long, long time.

* * *

Author's note:

Sorry about the earlier mix up, I uploaded the wrong chapter and didn't even know it was the unedited and uncompleted one! Many aplogies once again, and sorry for that. I hope you enjoyed this chapter anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD, but I'm going to go play with the characters anyway. Sure beats the lack of action where Yzak and Shiho are concerned, no? R&R please!

* * *

Chapter 5

"Take a photo, go on!" Dearka was calling loudly, a grin stretched from one tanned ear to another, and Yzak scowled and tried to turn his back so his friend wouldn't spot him. And he felt another hand tug on his arm and he snarled at the grinning person who had crept up on him almost undetected and invisible.

Nicol Amalfi was young, there wasn't anything wrong with admitting that even though Coordinators were adults by the time they were thirteen. But there was something terribly playful in Nicol's nature and something so innocent that Yzak could not bring himself to look at the boy for more than once at times.

"What's wrong with you, camera shy?" Nicol was teasing with the playful twinkle in his eye that Yzak hated. The boy was too young to even be here, fifteen and legal or not! All he did was play cards and laugh merrily and practise his piano, and although his performance was still none the less stellar even with his frivolities, it still enraged Yzak.

And he remembered the way his mother had looked once with bright eyes, a beautiful smile playing across her lips and the way she was waving at the camera, young and madly in love with someone who would die before she had a chance to be with him properly and something had snapped and he screamed at Nicol when he had been joshing around and telling jokes right after training, "You shouldn't be here!"

There had been laughter about two seconds ago, and when he screamed in a terrible rage, silence ensued.

Then Nicol had stopped, and his bright smile had died instantly while Athrun had also paused whatever he had been doing minutes before. Dearka started looking edgy because it had become his personal duty to safeguard Yzak from getting into brawls and fights, that sort of thing, not that Yzak wanted to care if his friend was worried for him.

"Why not?" Nicole had said tentatively while his eyes lost the glimmer in them.

At the back of his mind, Yzak knew Rusty and Miguel were also staring, and Athrun had a glazed look in his eyes and his lips were pursed in a frown Yzak could only describe as bitter. Was he remembering the way Junius Seven had been there and then gone in a single minute with his mother?

"You shouldn't be here because you aren't taking this seriously!" he spat at Nicol, balling his fists up and getting ready to strike if need be.

"Prove that." Nicol said poisonously, and Yzak could see the grimness in his voice and his eyes. The fingers that could bring forth beautiful melodies were also curled up into balls, and Miguel was standing wary, ready to pull them apart. But in this case, Yzak had started it, and Nicol was keen to continue it too. Besides, being accused of not being serious was something nobody in ZAFT would take lying down if it wasn't true where they were concerned.

"You joked around, you play around as if this were a game!' he raged, not caring that the other recruits were gathering around them and pointing and staring, murmurs of concern surging through everywhere.

And Nicol had glared at him with so much ice in his eyes that Yzak himself, a tough nut to crack if there ever had been one, felt disconcerted. Then Nicol spun and left, followed shortly by Athrun who still had that empty look in his eyes as if he were trying to forget something. And one by one, the recruits left, like vultures after discovering that the carcass they thought they'd spotted was really just some leftover bones.

Dearka had suddenly pulled at his arm, and he had glared at Dearka, glad someone was there to be his punching bag, but Dearka got to him first and landed him squarely in the jaw.

"Why'd you do that?" he hissed more in humiliation than pain.

"Nicol is the way he is because he's trying to cheer all of us up." Dearka said evenly even though his eyes were flashing and he looked more upset than what Yzak had ever seen him. His friend was usually cheerful and the easy going sort, quite different from Yzak's strange temperament and Athrun's serious ways, but there was a point where Dearka would be serious and wouldn't joke around. This was probably the point.

And abruptly, Yzak's vision was cleared form the red haze shrouding it and he stalked off, leaving his friend standing by the side staring at some part of the wall, or something beyond it. He didn't want to care.

Then he saw Shiho leaning against the wall near him, shrouded from all eyes like he had hoped to be when he came to the spot in the training grounds which overlooked green fields where he could not be seen and he would gain a little peace now and then. But he was possessive over this spot, nobody really knew about it except him. Well, except them, seeing that she had someone found her way here.

He considered asking her if she had seen everything that had gone on, but then she merely looked at him with a blank stare in her eyes and he knew she had seen everything, and something ugly and dull flushed in his cheeks.

And he didn't have the heart to chase her away even though he wanted to have something that only belonged to him, because he knew she had nothing left and he didn't have so much ice and hatred for someone that he would deprive Shiho Hahenfuss of the little happiness she had.

So instead, he got himself to sit down even though the blood was still throbbing in his head and his pulse was quick, and she didn't' say anything but resumed staring into the distance beyond the trees that reached above them and shaded them too.

When he was ready to speak, he looked at Shiho, strands of dark hair blowing placidly over her face and noticed how wan she looked.

She was strangely beautiful in ways nobody would ever describe as conventional, and her eyes weren't framed with long lashes that most would adore, they were more intense than anything else, although their colour was pretty enough. Her skin wasn't what anyone would describe as fair, it was paler than anything else, washed out if one wanted to border on being unkind. But her cheekbones were delicately shaped and high, and he knew that sometimes, her eyes wouldn't hold so much pain and hatred and look gentle. But there wasn't much chance of that now of course.

Not that he had cared much, he stamped on violets now and then to remind himself not to like Shiho and want her for a friend if he had the time to be violent occasionally.

And her lips weren't eh rosebud kind although they used to be pink, but she probably wasn't well because they were pale enough to be noticed. Her lips were very well defined, not too plump or outrageously curved, but the type which would have looked stunning if she smiled. But he knew Shiho Hahenfuss probable hadn't smiled after becoming the only remaining Hahenfuss of the Hahenfuss House.

Yzak could have been in the same position if fate hadn't been so random in selecting its victims, he could have been the only member left of the Joule House if his mother had chosen to visit Junius Seven the day the Blue Cosmos attacked it and destroyed families all over the world.

And that was why Yzak was fighting, because he wanted to destroy all those who could hurt those he cared about, and maybe the bloodthirstiness he had acquired and the need to always be at the top would justify the means he had used to win in the end.

He finally chose to start a conversation with one of the most inscrutable and enigmatic people he had met in his life, and he could have chosen to start it in many ways.

The first, he could have asked her why she had come back and had told anyone that she was alive and well. Or maybe not so well, considering that her lips were almost white and quite perpetually too.

The second way could have been possibly along the lines of questioning what she had meant when she had said the last remaining Hahenfuss House member had nowhere left to go. It was ridiculous if you though about it meticulously and logically, her father had left a fortune for her, and finding anywhere safe, that is if any place in the world or space was safe at all these days, wouldn't have been much of a problem at all.

Besides those, he could casually start if off by commenting about the weather, but he thought better of it since they all knew it would be sunny for the whole day, and he had to clamp his mouth shut for a little longer.

But when he finally spoke, it came out quite brusquely as," How did you find this place?"

She looked away from the area she had been staring at for quite a while now and answered briefly without looking much at him, "I just found it by chance a few days ago when I wanted to go somewhere quiet."

"Oh," was all Yzak could manage at that time, and then he made another stab and asked hesitantly, less abruptly than before, "If you have nowhere to go, you could always ask for help."

"The Hahenfuss House is not a beggar house," she said emotionlessly, but he saw a flash of anger in her violet eyes and the proud tilt of her chin before she turned back to the distance and stared at it.

"I never said it was," he cut in very impatiently, "But you're a friend of the Joule House, we can always offer you anything that you might want or need."

"I am no friend of the Joule House,: she interrupted coldly, "My father was on good terms with the Joule House, but that doesn't necessarily mean I am a friend too. Should I agree, I would be taking advantage of the ties my father had which would be an insult to his memory."

"Sure," he agreed, not really caring about whatever she was presuming to tell him because he wanted to get his point straight across, "But I think you would find anything you needed if you looked for it."

And she looked at him and smiled mirthlessly, and he shivered somewhere in him because her smile was quite a paradox in itself, unassuming and gentle but cold and bitter all at once, and she replied softly, "Nowhere in this world will give me peace."

Quite forgetting the fact that he had thought so for almost all his life, he grew indignant at her bitterness and snapped back, "You're just being a wimp, why don't you just let go of the death and live? It's not like your father died because of the bleeding Naturals out there! At least he died peacefully; he wasn't exactly blown up into itsy bits like some of our parents and friends out there!"

"I know," she said icily, glaring at him with some conviction, "But I didn't join because I wanted revenge or I developed the insane urge to go hunt down all Naturals like you. I joined because I thought I could offer something to some place which could use me, and being needed is the most important thing when you have nowhere left to go."

"Shiho," he said carefully, not realising he was addressing her by her name for possibly the first time in both their lives, "From now on, you are my friend and I will fight for you so that what you have now will never be taken away."

These were bold words, especially since nobody knew that in the next few days, Le Creuset, insane with ambitions and bloodthirsty with rage, would send for the redcoats to go to Heliopolis. And his words, meant to comfort her in some way that he tried to, could have been misconstrued as arrogant, meaningless phrases of utter uselessness, but something stirred in her eyes and she closed them and didn't speak for a long time.

And he found that he couldn't bear to look at her sitting tightly curled up into a ball with pride and dignity left in her every fibre even while the war came and made them grow up and it tore innocence like shreds of cotton from their being. So he was silent too, but when he looked up and saw that she was standing up, he saw her lips move soundlessly and caught something before she was gone in an instant.

Before she had left, Shiho had said this with no trace of bitterness left in her eyes, but that had been for a second before everything was flushed backwards with a vengeance that made Yzak's heart grow colder than it had been before. Sometimes, but rarely, he felt as if spring had come, but he knew winter would go on in his heart for a long time to come.

She had whispered, "Thank you."

The next day, he brought himself, dragged himself actually, with Dearka's invaluable help, to go and see Nicol, and had apologised although he was well ware that his face was a brilliant red. Nicol apologised too, and he agreed to take a photograph with his friends.

The photograph that Athrun got his hands on later and pinned up on his board was the only one which had all of them in it. There was Athrun and Yzak, serious and stoic, holding their certificates and dressed in their red uniforms almost unsmilingly, except Athrun had managed a smile, quite an admittedly nice one. Dearka was grinning and saying something as the camera shutter clicked, Yzak couldn't remember what it was now, but he was sure it had been a joke.

Rusty had been the tallest then, so they'd forced him to the back where the only thing that prevented him from being overshadowed by Athrun was his flaming red hair.

Miguel Aiman and his other friend, Yzak couldn't remember the name of the other person either, hadn't made it as redcoats, but they were happy enough to cheer for those who had made the cut.

And the youngest, Nicol Amalfi, was laughing merrily and tilting the cap cheekily over his eyes and washing himself into the best light of the camera. Years later, Yzak wished that eh would see the smile again, but Nicol wouldn't be there anymore to smile like that for anyone.

The last redcoat was Shiho Hahenfuss, the same person who had lifted the camera silently even though they shouted for her to go and join them in the photograph, and promptly pressed the button.

She had refused to take a photograph with them but she willingly took it for them, and when he saw the photograph from the developed film on Athrun's board awhile later, Yzak saw that his eyes weren't as cold as before, and that had been the day when Shiho Hahenfuss had looked at him without any prejudice or inhabitations in her own eyes, albeit through a camera's lenses.

But that was the only time when they had all been in the same place together and had taken a photograph.

And that in itself, was ominous because they would be sent on their first mission the very following day, and after that, war would rip their lives apart into shreds that could be recovered with only time and something they all tried to find after that.

Years later, Yzak sat down and thought what the last thing they had needed to find to get peace had been.

Nicol Amalfi hadn't needed anything to obtain peace because he had believed that his parents and his music were peace by itself. Yzak sometimes thought of the boy and his heart would ache, but he never said anything, not even to his other comrades or friends.

Rusty McKenzie and Miguel Aiman lived life to the fullest because he had believed his life would end soon anyway. He had been quite right actually, and the thought of Rusty and Miguel dying still made Yzak bitter at times.

Dearka lived with a smile even though Yzak knew his heart had been wounded too, but then Dearka had always believed that peace was there, somewhere, there wasn't a need to find it, it would find him.

Athrun Zala was another case altogether. He found peace later, lost it, then he found it again, and it came in the form of Cagalli Yula Atha, the girl Yzak thought of as the girl of the sun. It was no wonder she was peace to Athrun, she didn't bring peace to his troubled heart, she was peace to him in itself. And Yzak was secretly glad Athrun had found his own peace but he didn't bother telling Athrun either.

And Yzak himself found his own peace later, and he didn't find it by anything except believing in the future and Shiho Hahenfuss.

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Author's notes:

Alright, for those of you who have read this without reading (and reviewing) the fourth chapter, or rather, the actual one instead of the wrong one that I accidentally uploaded, please go backtrack.

Ah, and the photograph descibed above, it actually does exists in the anime, although I'm not sure which episode it was shown. Go check Wikipedia if you want, but then we won't know who took the photograph. Still, it was a great source of inspiration for Believing since there are so few Yzak and Shiho moments. I actually have a theory that she took the photograph since she was the only one who wasn't in it as a Redcoat. This is not proven true or untrue, but then it sure fit Believing, so go ahead and R&R, make my day!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

And the next time he saw her, she had been in what had been formerly known as his territory.

It wasn't like he didn't see her that often nowadays, in fact, whenever he went to his hiding place, he would see her already there or she would appear some time after him. It was miraculous how she was one of the people who wouldn't allow him to pick a fight with her no matter how much he egged her on to doing it.

Shiho Hahenfuss had graduated shortly after them and she was given a redcoat uniform too, and when she wore it, they would stop to stare because her dark hair was beautiful against the crimson-red of the uniform. The female redcoats were generally a minority, most chose to be bridge officers, that sort of thing, so there really wasn't a female version of the red uniform unlike the other green one the normal soldiers or mechanics wore. But she was offered a skirt by the officer in charge when all of them were handed the uniform, and Yzak saw her taking it quietly without saying a word.

The next time he ever saw the skirt, it was stuffed in some faraway locked nobody had used for a long time and she was striding around in the original uniform meant for the males. She was crazy, she really was, but he didn't bother commenting on it as of the present because there were other things to worry about.

Yzak had heard rumours, wild and some without any base of truth whatsoever, but one stood out more than anything else to his ears, and that was the rumour that Le Creuset was on the list of to-be-missions. He wasn't worried, he had been waiting for a mission his whole time he had enlisted into ZAFT, and something in him rose and raged again, and he would play chess games with Athrun at hours on a stretch.

But Athrun Zala wasn't quite a pushover, and that was excellent for Yzak because he had picked Athrun to pick a fight with precisely for that reason. Yzak saw him in a different light because he knew Athrun Zala was one of the first of them who had allowed something to die in him.

There was a week ago when some Naturals brought in by the Blue Cosmos had came in disguised as redcoats, quite a terrible decision to make since there were only a few registered ones waiting around at that point. Yzak hadn't noticed they were there because he hadn't seen them, only when he had screams coming from the hallway had he rushed down to see what was going on. But when he barged into the room he suddenly recognised as Athrun's he saw a dead main lying on the ground in a redcoat uniform, obviously a Blue Cosmos member, and he saw Athrun holding a knife, shining crimson with liquid red and screaming in insane agony. It had taken more than him, Dearka and the others to calm him down, but after that Yzak always looked at Athrun Zala with different eyes.

There just wasn't any meaning in fighting with someone who would take it lying down, and Yzak wasn't the sort who liked doormats either. Athrun Zala was a brilliant tactician, perhaps even better than him, and Yzak felt an insane urge to prove he could beat anyone, or everyone, just because he wanted to quell his bloodthirstiness but at the same time, he was reluctant to let go of the black hatred that resided in his blue eyes.

And on a day he thought was normal, or accurately put, as normal as a life in the midst of war could ever be, Yzak went to the spot under the trees which were shaded from the sun and other people's eyes. He knew she would be there, it was something that always let them meet even though they rarely spoke but just looked at something they couldn't see or want to really look at in the distance expanding outside.

Today, she was more talkative. She looked as he at next to her, similarly bringing his knees somewhere below his chin and she said quietly, "You're here."

It wasn't a greeting or that sort of salutations he had expected, it wasn't an accusation or question either, it was more of a statement, But everything she had said always sounded like a statement, it was more matter-of-fact than anything else.

Her amethyst eyes were calm today, no raging fire underneath and no veneer of ice. Maybe something good had happened to her.

"Something good happened didn't it?" he asked hesitantly, looking at her hands which were carefully placed on the grass now.

She nodded briefly and said languidly, "I'll be a test pilot in another team."

He knew she enjoyed that stuff, and more crucially, he was overjoyed that she would never have much of an opportunity to go and fight. And the crux of the issue was that eh didn't want to see her die as she was now.

"Good," he managed before capturing his silence once more, and she glanced at him with a question in her eyes and he said uncomfortably, "What?"

"Aren't you going to sortie soon?' she said abruptly, and she stared at him, making him feel a tad bothered somewhere. She shouldn't be allowed to stare like that, it was almost rude, but then it wasn't just the way she stared that made him feel awkward, he felt as if she was examining him and breaking something away from him that he vaguely knew was a security wall.

"I am," he cut in brusquely, waving a hand impatiently at a non-existent fly, "The order will come later."

"Oh," was all she said, but something seemed to struck her and her eyes snapped up once more, connecting square4ly with his own, and she didn't seem to notice the way his heart palpitated as she asked, "Will you go soon?"

"Probably,' he muttered awkwardly, "But I've been waiting to kill some of those bastards my whole life."

"Why?" she said sharply and he knew her breathing was painful and suddenly laborious, and then he saw that her eyes were flashing purple fire, and something sent warning bells in his head.

"They're weak, they're deceitful, they're inferior, and they-," and Yzak cut himself off just in time and turned a terrible dull red as he realised what he had almost revealed.

"They what?" she prompted, leaning closer and making him forget for a minute how much hate and distrust he had felt for a minute because he was suddenly hitching his breath up and making it tangle into a horrid mess.

"Nothing," he snapped furiously, "Forget I said anything."

"Tell me," she insisted, and he was struck by how much she was suddenly talking that day, and he was forced to unglue his lips and muttered, feeling terribly empty, "They killed my father."

She was silent then, and when she turned to look up at him, he saw that she had tears somewhere, glimmering softly in her eyes.

"I don't need your bloody pity,' he snarled, but a minute later, she had turned squarely and awkwardly put her arms around him, vulnerable and terribly child-like. She didn't cry or anything, she didn't make a sound either, but then she was nestling in his arms trying to hide her face and he understood why she had wanted a place to be by herself so that nobody would see her.

It wasn't so much him that needed to be comforted, Yzak realised as he placed his own arms around her in a mandatory sort of manner, it was more of her.

But then he heard a voice calling for him and recognised it as Dearka's, and with a strange wave of regret he hadn't felt for almost his whole life, he pushed her away and moved swiftly through the clearing where he saw Dearka running towards him and calling his name in an urgent voice.

And he knew the time had come when he would lose himself and never see anything but bloodstains on his hands.

But it didn't matter anymore. Deep inside, a rage was building although he was outwardly calm, and when he went to the room all of them were waiting in for Le Creuset's orders, he heard a melody that didn't penetrate though anything he had built up steadily around himself.

Nicol was playing, then he suddenly stopped when he saw Yzak and the instructions came from Le Creuset.

He was a man that Yzak admired and respected, he was a brilliant tactician in the truest sense of the word, not just in chess and that sort of mind games, but also in war. And that appealed to Yzak more than anything else. The mask puzzled him, but he accepted it because he knew the commander had came from a long history of fighting. Perhaps he had scars he didn't want anyone else to see. And nobody questioned him either; it was simply due to his efficiency and excellent commanding that made everyone accept his little eccentrics. And Yzak hung on every word the commander said next, not merely out of deep respect, but because he didn't see how else he could get his revenge against the Naturals in the quickest time possible.

And then he heard Rusty saying to Nicol after they had received their mission, "Is this really correct?"

There was silence from Nicol, and Yzak, although his heart was bursting with indignation, kept silent too. Because for the first time in his life, he wondered if there was another alternate route he might have taken. But he went to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face and saw sleek, thick silver hair and startling blue eyes and thought of his mother. And his eyes darkened in the reflection he saw and he pushed every doubt of his mind.

Because he was assigned to infiltrate the Orb space colony Heliopolis to capture the Earth Alliance's new prototype mobile weapons, and Yzak knew he couldn't do that and doubt what he had set out to do.

And the next day, he killed his first man, but he hadn't minded seeing the blood gush like a rived when he pulled the trigger, and he had killed roughly seven, not minding the numbers pouring all around him as he flung open the cockpit of the mobile suit, not caring which one was which, and he closed the cockpit and the last thing he thought of before he lost his sanity was that the light was being shut out.

He knew Rusty died later when the others had gotten into the remaining suits and left one without a pilot, the GAT-X105Strike, and from what they later knew, it was the jack of all trades but a master of none. But then it started mobilizing and Yzak knew someone had gotten into it and he had charged straight at it and clashed with it in a rage.

But he hadn't won that day, and he was forced to leave when they sent the recall signal. He wanted to stay and fight and kill and know that he had killed whoever that was taking safety in the Strike instead of Rusty so he'd kill to the very last one standing and then he'd be damned forever. If he went back and faced Shiho knowing that he had a shred of humanity left, he would lose something more than becoming a demon. And that was what he had believed in when everything around him was an inferno and his eyes looked at everything with a little more than hatred in them.

And he never had a chance to meet Shiho Hahenfuss in the days to come because suddenly, they were everywhere but near the place he missed sometimes when he was alone or when he was dreaming.

And when he dreamt alone sometimes, he would return to a place dappled with sunlight shaded by trees above him and see her waiting silently for him, never saying anything but smiling at something in the distance.

The following days became a maze of lies and deceit and terrible nightmares, but sometime he would wake up recalling someone smiling at him and the scent of crushed violets.

He fought with the Strike often, and he always lost or at most, it was a draw which was as good as a loss to him. And Yzak took his frustrations out on Athrun, because he was aware that Athrun was holding back for some strange reason. And that compelled him to morph into the volatile temper and mad rage he showed he owned, because it frustrated him knowing that Athrun was trying to retain his humanity.

Sometimes Yzak would feel ashamed that he was so selfish and secretly hoped that everyone would be like him and fight for revenge and kill because they needed to. But then he slowly realised that revenge was losing its grip on most of his team-mates, and that made him more fanatical and devout to ZAFT and battling. He still lost the chess games regularly to Athrun, and once, he was so enraged by his losses that he upturned the board, fling the chess pieces everywhere and proceeded to bash the room up completely.

Athrun hadn't stopped him, just sat there calmly watching with an empty gaze in his eyes until he had finished his tirade, and then he had looked quietly at Yzak and said softly, "It was meant to do you good," and then he left.

And on one battle, the Strike sliced cleanly across his own mobile suit and he creamed in pain and humiliation as a pitch-black darkness claimed him for what seemed like eternity.

When he woke, he was on board the ship and in the infirmary, and someone silently passed him a mirror and he saw a terrible slash across his face, nearly spanning from his forehead to his chin. It was a miracle that his eyes were still in one piece. The doctor assured him that the scar could be easily removed with a certain treatment, but Yzak had said coldly, 'Shut up."

There were wounds he wanted to carry.

Then he left with the scar and eyes filled to the brim with pain and hurt pride, and most significantly, bitterness. Dearka left him alone; he knew his friend needed to be alone that day. Nicol and Athrun were quiet too; they didn't try to say anything to make him have better spirits because they were in low spirits of their own too. Something about Athrun especially bothered Yzak, since Athrun hadn't been fighting well against the Strike after they had returned to PLANT for a short time before that.

And that day, he had heard a voice calling him softly and had eagerly turned around in the midst of the hallway because he thought he had heard Shiho calling him.

But he saw an empty hallway and light flickering in a haphazard manner and he felt pain ebb like a cobweb everywhere into his chest when he realised that she wasn't there and in either case, she had never called him by his name.

The next time he went out on the battlefield in the Battle of the Orbit as it was later known, he searched more specifically for the Strike than anything else and set out to hunt the pilot down. He was filled with a terrible rage, and something snapped in him as he saw the civilian shuttle retreating out of the battle's way. He was under the impression that there were retreating soldiers on board and shot at it in cold blood, and then the Strike seemed to sense his triumph and flew at him in a rage of its own. He lost terribly that day too, and he loathed himself more than ever.

But this time, he saw that another ship had joined the Vesalius when they had been recalled and the ships' supplies were meant to be restored. He had seen Shiho step out of the smaller battleship and he hadn't moved a muscle, staring straight at her.

He didn't get a chance to talk to her since they were all busy training and she doing some tests on their mobile suits, but he had caught her climbing into his mobile suit one day, presumably to run a check and he had rushed in and eagerly caught her hand.

But before he could say anything, she turned very jerkily and slapped him with all her might.

And Yzak remembered the way his mother had slapped him and he felt the sting and the rush of pain to the place where her hand had been a few seconds ago, and hesprung forward and mashed her against the wall of the cockpit, hissing, "Why did you do that?"

"You deserved it," she said steadily, and she seemed to be unafraid of his towering height and the position she was trapped in as he locked her against the wall.

"How dare you say that?" he breathed in disbelief and rage, seeing that not a single flinch passed in her face.

"You shot down a civilian shuttle," she shot back angrily, not caring that he was pressing closer to her threateningly, "And you killed them in cold blood, you monster."

He could have chosen to say he didn't know what he was doing at the time, and he could have told her he didn't know what to do now either, but then a whistling through the air shook him from his muddled thoughts and another hand landed neatly on his other cheek. She had slapped him twice.

With a roar of rage, he grasped both of her hands in his own and slammed it roughly against the wall, and then suddenly, without panning to or meaning to, he kissed her swiftly and she resisted and thrashed after the initial shock and lack of mobility. But a minute later, she shoved him away, rubbing her lips with the back of her hand as if they were unclean and soiled, and that enraged him further.

But she stared at him and said coldly, "Don't do that again."

And she left and he stood there for long time thinking about the scars he had sustained and the rest that eh would carry for a long time to come. Her arrival hadn't erased anything, the pain was still a dull throb somewhere that he had effectively muted, but seeing her again was like reopening wounds he never knew had existed in the first place.

There weren't any violets left for him to crush now.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD. Please R&R!

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Chapter 7 

The first time he had kissed her, she had actually recoiled, and he was filled with loathing. But then he realised that he really hadn't any reason to have done what he did unless there were two reasons. One was that he had lost his sanity back in the Battle or the Orbit and hadn't regained it after, and the other-well, he'd put it aside for now.

But Yzak sat in his room with his head in his hands thinking long and thinking hard. Was he really insane now? And he didn't know what to believe in anymore, so he turned and looked into the mirror like he had avoided doing the day after he knew he had killed innocent Naturals.

But in the past, there weren't such things as innocent Naturals, because Yzak Joule didn't approve of a sentence even with the word Natural in it. The word 'innocent', in his belief, just ought not to be used in the same sentence as 'Natural'. Because he hated them all.

But Shiho had looked at him with disgust, and worst, pity in her eyes when she had recoiled from his kiss and slapped him in revenge. It was probably the first time she had been kissed, which sparked off such an impact and reaction even with someone as level-headed and stoic as her, and it made him ache inside to know that she looked at him with pity. Not loathing, he wouldn't have minded that so much, but he honestly hated the pity in her violet eyes when she had left.

So he wasn't insane because he could still think so clearly, and he was capable of carrying out his duties as a soldier and the miscellaneous tasks he was assigned here and there.

And that left the second cause of the way he had pushed her roughly up the wall and kissed her. He loved her.

It was very difficult, almost impossible for someone as hardhearted and hatred-filled as Yzak to look into the mirror and see what lay under the cold blue eyes. But there wasn't any other option, and that ruled out denying that he was bewitched by her in its entirety.

Granted, she hadn't tried to come close to him and tried to befriend him or even bewitch him either, but he had fallen for her before he knew it and that was that. But there was a fine line between love and hatred, that he knew, and now he hated her more than he loved her.

And he calmly picked up a book, held it in his right hand, and slammed it onto the wall. But he wasn't satisfied, and he took a chair and swung it neatly against the wall until its legs fell off one by one and he was panting in exhaustion. Then he took his towel and moved brokenly into the shower.

When Yzak re-emerged, he put on his uniform and noticed, perhaps for the first time that its colour was pretty much the colour of blood. And for the first time, he felt doubt, but he crushed it as swiftly as it had wormed its way into his mind and heart and left his room because he was certain he was suffocating.

Nicol was playing the piano in the lounge when he got there, but there was someone else sitting next to Nicol very quietly and observing his fingers and hands run masterfully over he black and white keys. Shiho.

And he couldn't bring himself to enter the room and stood there silently with his hand at the side of the door, not feeling anything, not thinking of anything, just standing there, lost.

The music was meant to be a jaunty little tune with a sort of waltz rhythm he had heard when his mother had forced him to attend some even when he was a child. But the way Nicol played it transformed the piece into something terribly haunting and melancholy, and the lilt was reconstructed into a pouring of misery, still beautiful, but it became terribly sad and moving the more he heard it.

Then Yzak watched Shiho sitting next to Nicol and instantaneously regretted the decision he had taken a while back then. She wasn't meant to be here where she would move into the terrors of war and lose her belief in the world, or more accurately, what was left to believe in after she had been thrust into a world where nobody could fend for her once her father had passed on.

And he knew that if she were to kill to much, her heart would be shrouded in ice and mist, and her violet eyes would grow dull like a killer's, and the steel would slowly ebb into her soul. He didn't want to see her innocence corrupted like his, and then his features were contorted in a mask of pain as he turned away and quietly left.

The tune still haunted him for days at an end, even after she left without saying a word to him after that.

Nicol was wiser than his years, and he didn't attempt to say very much to Yzak even though he was making a marked attempt to be more cheerful and fun-loving even when the battles were turning uglier than ever.

And Yzak continued to fight, and he didn't allow himself to question anything, not order, not commands, nothing at all. But sometimes, he would wake in the night with blood on his hands and realise it was nothing really at all. And sometimes he would dream of the sensation of her soft lips pressing against his own, but then he would awake feeling bitter that she had pushed him away, not half-heartedly even, but with every fibre she could control and use to increase the distance between them.

And he couldn't blame her for that.

So he continued to live and believe in the commander and put his life out on the line while he killed the others on the Natural's side who had put their own lives at a stake too. But it was necessary, it was either them or him, and when the crunch of the issue came, Yzak knew he was afraid to die, and he hated himself more than ever.

And a few more battles came and went, and during that time, he grew more and more volatile until he couldn't bear himself much longer.

The redcoats tired of searching for the Archangel in ORB, and it was unsuccessful overall. After a certain period time, they decided to give up and they wanted to leave even while they posed as mechanics. But Athrun hung back a little at a fence where he was returning a mechanical toy bird to someone Yzak couldn't see on the other side of the fence. And when he returned, Yzak saw that Athrun had no expression on his face, but his eyes were filled with an intense pain.

That night, Nicol had tried to cheer Athrun up by playing the same song he had heard Nicol playing for Shiho, but Yzak had heard the song that was meant for Athrun to hear, and his face had darkened and he had turned and left abruptly. He had hurt Nicol that day too, although he hadn't really meant too, so he promised himself that he would drag himself and apologise the next day.

But Yzak didn't get a chance to, because Nicol died that very day once they were engaged in battle when the Archangel left ORB waters, and the stab that wrenched into his heart more than ever was the knowledge that Nicol had died a terrible death. Not one of those explosions which was out in a mere few seconds, it was a stab to the cockpit that would run the pilot directly through. There weren't even much of any remains to bring back to PLANT, and the realisation that the grave would be empty with only a mark stone filled him with cold fury.

And he was filled to the brim with bitterness that he couldn't apologise to his friend and used Athrun as a punching bag for good measure. Athrun Zala didn't fight back today, he was too broken to do anything anymore, and he simply allowed Yzak to thrash him around for his own convenience until Yzak pushed him away and left to lock himself up in his own room.

Then he wasn't ashamed to scream in rage and pain as he thought of his dead friend, and for the first time in a long while, he wept for his friends, not just Nicol, but Rusty and Miguel. And when he wasn't able to cry a single tear anymore because his tear ducts had simply ran dry, he swore revenge even as he fingered the scar that ran across his face in a terrible streak of crimson.

Subsequently, Athrun went and got himself involved in a direct battle against the Strike even when Yzak had been prepared to go out and die for his revenge if need be, but Athrun got himself embroiled in battle first.

He heard later that the Aegis had exploded, apparently Athrun had programmed it to self-destruct in order to kill the Strike and then he had escaped, or died in the explosion himself, nothing was clear anymore.

That night, Yzak prayed that Athrun Zala was dead so he wouldn't comeback and face the future even with the knowledge that he would never be pure again. Perhaps it would be better if Athrun Zala died like Nicol and the rest, if it could give him a chance to leave the cursed world Yzak was doomed to live in for a while more.

The Vesalius' redcoats were reduced from the original number to just him. Dearka been taken captive, and Yzak believed he wasn't alive anymore. So there was only him left. He didn't mind, because he knew he would be joining them sooner or later, and nothing mattered anymore.

Then they sent in reinforcements so that the lack of soldiers now wouldn't hinder them. And he knew Shiho would go aboard the Vesalius again, and something wanted to murder her so she'd stop plaguing his mind and something ached for her.

That evening, the ship joined the Vesalius and a crowd of mechanics and bridge officers stepped down, and watching from afar, Yzak saw Shiho move silently with them, hidden but not hidden at the same time.

He waited until she had lagged behind a bit as they moved to their temporary rooms, then he swiftly grasped her hand and pulled her into a deserted corridor. She didn't know who it was at first, so she resisted, but then she saw who it was who had captured her hand, and her eyes grew cold like ice and she allowed him to pull her wherever he pleased.

And so Yzak waited until they had recovered a little from the shock he had given her, and then he said warily, "I suppose you know I'm the only redcoat left?"

She chose not to answer but glared hatefully up at him while holding the hand he had touched as if nursing a burn, and he was over bowled by a wave of hatred again although he didn't say anything.

"And you're here now," he continued with some difficulty, "and you do realise that you will be staying here for a long time?"

"Yes," she hissed, still clutching onto her hand in a defensive position while her eyes were poisonous now, "But fortunately, I will be with the mechanics and doing test piloting with the other mobile weapons which pleases me infinitely with the realisation that I won't have to go near the Duel."

"I don't care whether you go near the Duel or not," he snarled as he hurled her against the wall in a strongly reminiscent position they had been put into a while ago, "I don't need you anywhere."

"I know," she said angrily, pushing her hair out of her eyes after she had unsuccessfully attempted to push him away so she wouldn't be trapped like a caged beast, "I don't want to be anywhere near you in any case."

And Yzak reciprocated by letting go of her almost as if he had been burned this time, because he felt as if something had stabbed his side and twisted in his flesh for good measure.

"Nicol died," she said unflinchingly, looking up at him with hatred, that he was good at recognising by now, "And I don't give a damn if you do."

He was silent although something boiled in his very guts and they stood there glaring at each other.

"You loved him, didn't you?" he said suddenly, seeing the poorly-concealed pain behind the exterior of hatred in her features and more significantly, her eyes. She looked at him and her lips trembled, and she tried to say something but nothing came out, but a tear slipped and slid down as it fell from her eyes. Then she allowed him to push his weight against hers, both supported by the wall and kiss her fiercely, almost as if that would comfort both of them by the mere force of the contact.

In a strange way, it did, but he finally broke the kiss and noticed almost idly that her arms were wrapped around his neck in a weary sort of way, as if she had given up fighting something and had surrendered herself to him. And in a twisted way, he enjoyed the rush it gave him even though his heart was wrenched in more pain than ever.

"You're going to use me from now on," he whispered, a statement more than an assertion or anything which might be related to a question, and his heart was bitter even though he felt strangely warm when she was hugging him almost like she had needed him.

Shiho didn't love him, she didn't even feel for him half the way he felt for her, but he only wanted to believe in her embrace and nothing else. He didn't have anything to believe in anymore except the commands he was issued and his deep seated hatred of Naturals, the last of the things he believed in was Shiho, even though he knew he was being a fool for her.

She didn't reply to his words, because she couldn't bring herself to tell Yzak that Nicol had been her best friend and that she still loved him and not Nicol even when Nicol had died and left them both behind. If he knew that she loved him, the stakes would rise and she would have a greater probability of losing everything if Yzak went and died too. If she admitted that she needed him, then it was as good as admitting to herself that if Yzak Joule died, Shiho herself would die with him too. And the crux of the matter was that Shiho was afraid of being hurt.

"Don't leave," she said quietly, and he allowed her to bury her face in his chest and sob quietly while he closed himself in the darkness of the corridor and let her cry for a while until she had finally exhausted herself out. And Yzak was bitter that she loved Nicol and not him, but then it wasn't hard to believe that since Nicol wasn't a monster like he was.

Shiho Hahenfuss was too pure and too lovely for a monster, but it was enough for him that she even wanted to use him as a substitute for someone more deserving of her heart. He would weep when she had recovered enough by feeding off him to move on eventually and leave him in tatters, but in the mean time, he couldn't reject the offer of being someone she needed for now. He just couldn't.

When she was finally done, she shifted slightly and he loosened his grip obediently. Then she pulled him to her and kissed him on his cheek, very chaste but somehow misplaced kiss and said softly, "Thank you, but I don't want to see you ever again."

He was filled with rage again and he crushed his mouth to hers in an attempt to try to make her understand that the issue wasn't about whether she needed him or not, the issue was more of the fact that he needed her.

And strangely, she resisted at first but gave up and kissed him back, but then he saw her tears and broke off abruptly and stumbled a few steps backward, and she slid helplessly to the floor and stared up at him with something indiscernible in her violet eyes.

"I was your fiancée, did you know that?" she said softly, looking up at him and not moving a single muscle.

"Who said that?" he breathed in disbelief and shock.

"It was decided a long time ago when we were children," she said after a pause, still not moving and looking like a doll, lifeless but beautiful and cold, "And I was requested by your mother to marry you once were turned nineteen, that was after she sent for me when my father died. I suppose that was the right time to see if the engagement still held any validity."

He didn't know how to reply to the bombshell she had dropped on him as something flipped over in his stomach, and he felt a wave of nausea that she had been almost forced to surrender herself to a monster like him even when she had loved Nicol Amalfi.

"Then when your father died, you broke off the engagement on your own?' he whispered painfully, hating the way she could break through every line of defence he set around himself.

"No," she said, her voice contorted with pain, "I broke it off myself."

"Why?" he asked, realising that she knew far more than he did and hating her for that, "Why did you go and do that yourself?"

"Your mother offered me a chance to be the mistress of the House of Joule and a chance to start life afresh after my father died," she said softly, her fingers twitching abruptly even while she half-lay half-sat on the floor like a rag doll, "But only if I gave myself up to the House of Joule and put the engagement through its paces like how it was planned when my father had been alive."

He was startled at how lost her expression was when she revealed this, it was a terrible thing to know so much when war was encroaching faster than anything else he had ever known in his life, and it was horrifying how Shiho had been manipulated by the wills set by the people before either of them had been born.

And he was bitter again and he watched her for a while before asking finally, "But it was a good offer, considering you didn't have much left when your father died, why'd you reject it?"

"I won't be bound by anybody's will," she said, her voice and face suddenly filled with pride and anger, "I won't be your toy just because I need to survive."

"But you won't be subject to anything lower than what you deserve of you enter the Joule House," he insisted, suddenly eager to prove that she had made the wrong decision by annulling the engagement even though he had only learned of it a few minutes ago, "You know you could gain security and respect if you entered the House of Joule!"

"I won't do it because I was told to do it," she said obstinately with a rebellious glint flashing in her eyes, and she stared up at him stubbornly and he felt like yanking her hair out for her being so stubborn and childish. But why was he so bothered that she didn't want the engagement because it had been thrust onto her and not because she disliked him? Or then again, he wasn't so sure whether she loathed him now or not, everything was like tangled yarn, all over the place, pull too hard and the strings would snap.

"I don't care if this was forced on us," he said determinedly, and she was stuck by how strong he was compared to her, "I make my own decisions and I will follow through."

Perhaps she had anulled the engagement because she didn't want to be near him. But now, he'd be selfish and take advantageof her current distress to force her to be near him. And he would hurt himself for both of them now because with any luck, the war would get more murderous and take him away from the bloody mess everything was now.

She was silent because she didn't know how to reply to this. She suddenly regretted telling him of what she knew when her father had whispered his last words to her on his deathbed, and now she cursed the fact that he knew that she would have originally submitted to him whether she wanted to or not if not for the engagement.

If the engagement hadn't existed, she would be free to do as she wished; she could try her best and make him like her because she wanted him to and not because it was for the good of marriage in the future. Everything was in confusion now, she didn't know anything anymore, and she was weary of everything around her and the life maniuplated by those before him and her.

But he pulled her roughly up and pressed his lips possessively on her own once he pushed her bangs aside, and then he said brusquely, but his eyes were filled with silent pain and something she identified as misery, "Go. Come to me when you need to find Nicol but he isn't there to be with you, or don't come at all, because you don't need me tobe Nicol's stand-in. I will be made an idiot because of you, but I want you to remember that Yzak Joule did that for you at the very least."

And he was gone and she stared in the darkness of the corridor stretching out before her and wondered where she had gone wrong.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD. Read and Review please!

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Chapter 8 

But she didn't try to approach him after that and suddenly the battles were becoming more and more deadly with a further edge to them. And for the first time, he was really trying to stay alive, trying against every odd thrown at him, to live. The Commander Le Creuset was encouraging, he never said being the last redcoat left , and he never tried to imply that his days were numbered, and Yzak believed in the commander more than ever because really, there was very little left to believe in.

Some time after Nicol had died, ORB, a neutral nation which had neither obligations to EA or ZAFT, brought Athrun Zala back to the Vesalius. Athrun Zala would return to PLANT to recuperate for a while, or so he heard from one of the bridge officers, and he had been awarded a medal for taking down the Strike, something Yzak had meant to do.

And he waited outside for Athrun Zala to arrive, and he knew the sun was setting. Half of him was swathed in blood reds and coral pinks and oranges that blinded him, but he ignored the dazzling array of colours when he saw Athrun Zala step out, his arm securely put in a sling and his emerald eyes somehow wiser but sadder than ever.

'What happened?' he thought suddenly, and then Yzak saw flashes of his life skimming like little pieces of lost dreams everywhere. He recalled the sting of the slap whenhis mother's palm had connected with his cheek, the fierce emotion of longing when he saw her laugh and praise the other children, and then remembered Shiho's melancholic face and her beautiful eyes and felt like a wounded animal.

But Athrun paused in front of him now, and Yzak stared at him, seeing pain his friend felt through the windows of is emerald eyes. He didn't bother asking if Athrun had recovered, it wasn't much of his style too.

Instead, Yzak remained in the position, half-leaning, half-standing against the wall with one leg bent to prop himself up against it with his arms crossed in a stand-offish position.

And they looked at each other in silence, and Yzak saw anguish in the eyes that reminded him of the way Shiho had looked at him, and he was silent. But then he managed to speak up and break the awkward silence that had enveloped them just minutes ago.

"I will beat you once and for all," he declared, and he put his unwavering gaze on Athrun Zala, who in the past, would have remained silent but shown an edge of competitiveness in his eyes.

But now, he merely smiled, and his smile was brief and very sad, and Yzak was reminded of Nicol's song he had played for Shiho. And h was filled to the brim with bitterness, but the wisdom and knowledge of something in the smile he now saw filled him with something else, something less dominant next to his bitterness, but something more detectable- disconcertment.

Then Athrun Zala offered his hand and he shook it firmly, wondering what had made Athrun become so inflicted with pain and wisdom all at once.

Much later, he saw the last member of the Atha clan and understood, but at that point in time when he didn't know who the person who had a strange gift to break through Athrun Zala's barriers was, he was filled with wonder at the strange wisdom in Athrun Zala's eyes.

So while Athrun left, going back for PLANT, Yzak stayed on the Vesalius with Shiho.

She didn't say very much either, and they didn't meet enough for him to attempt conversations with her, but he knew she was growing weaker and weaker every day, as if the core of steel in her was being worn down by forces he couldn't identify or even begin to fight. But then sometimes, he understood that it was the war that had made both of them like that.

And sometimes, he thought he knew that she pined for Nicol, or that was what he had thought, since on one random day, he had been in the Duel reprogramming some key elements when she had darted in like a little shadow, perhaps helped by the fact that the gravity pull in the grounds weren't stable, and he looked, startled when he heard a swishing sound her hair made as she came in, and before he knew it, she had suddenly thrown her arms around him.

He didn't know what to do then even though he had promised her that he would be a substitute for Nicol for as long as she wanted, because the arms around his neck poured an insane jealousy and possessiveness in him,and at the same time, it filled him with something very startlingly gentle and loving he didn't know he was able to feel in the first place. He could have chosen to push her away and tell her the deal was off, but the stakes were high and he wanted to continue playing the game, simply because he wanted her to be with him.

And when they heard noises from below the cockpit, probably the other mechanics had arrived for work; he had to break the silent embrace and looked carefully at her face. But he saw something that looked like pain and lost hope there, and he knew his face mirrored the same, and she pushed off, using the seat as a spring board and making a quick getaway.

But he sprung into action, using the desk as a wall the way she had similarly used the desk and captured her hand in his, absently pushing the button that shut and locked the cockpit the way he always did when they needed to make a sortie. Do the door slid with a mechanical 'whoosh' sound, and then nothing could be heard from outside.

She didn't struggled get away, but she was looking at him with her violet eyes wide with apprehension and something he vaguely recognised as longing, and his heart stopped for a minute, but then he remembered something in the nick of time and said ruefully while placing his hands on her shoulders, "I suppose you missed Nicol."

"I did,' she said softly, allowing him to brush her longhair out of her face without flinching, he was surprisingly gentle even though his voice was brusque, "But I miss Nicol everyday."

"I know you do," he interrupted bitterly, but he kept his movements clean and made them as smooth as possible, because something told him that Shiho would bolt if he suddenly made any jerk action, "But I suppose it gets beyond a point and you remembered there's always someone for a rebound."

Then Yzak immediately regretted his words, but then he had a sick sensation of triumph quite akin to the way he had eliminated soldiers from other frontiers one by one and watched them explode while trapped in their mobile weapons. And he was infinitely sure that she had somehow managed to make him blur the line concerning love and hatred, and now he loved and hated her, he wanted to protect and hurt her all at once.

She was silent, ignoring his barb at her, and he suddenly realised she was thinking and thinking very deeply. Then something moved in her eyes and she said firmly, but strangely emotionlessly, "Nicol was a friend, possibly my best friend, but then he wasn't anything more."

"You liar," he whispered, closing his eyes and suddenly feeling the pain of the scar across his face, almost as if the Strike had only just slashed across the flesh, "You don't have to pretend, because even if you do, I still will be a substitute willingly."

"Why?' she asked flatly, pushing his hand away from her cheek and glaring up at him while he stared back at her.

"I want to keep you with me," he said just as firmly as before, and something was hurting in a very faraway, numb place within his chest, but he ignored the little pain and concentrated at looking at Shiho. Then to spite her, he added swiftly, "I like winning."

She was hurt, he could tell, because Shiho was biting her lips and they turned a pale, ashy colour and her eyes were cold, but she remained close to him, almost as if she remembered she still wanted to use him for comfort since Nicol wasn't around.

"You like winning," she echoed softly, and she was remembering the way she had hidden in a corner and watched Yzak leaping time and again at Athrun Zala and tring to win him during the sparring duels with knives. He was vicious with everyone, he made cynical remarks and lost his temper as easily as the wind could blow, but she knew he carried wounds and the edge in him was a little less sharp and a little less harsh when she was there.

"I do," he said harshly, pulling her closer to him, "And I believe this war will be over very soon and the Coordinators will win once and for all."

"I don't really care about the war," she said slowly, considering what he had declared, "I never really did."

"I know you don't," he said flatly, "You don't really care much about anything other than those machines and Nicol."

Shiho knew he wanted to hurt her, but if he wanted to, she'd let him for a bit, because if he felt better after hurting someone else, she would be satisfied to know she had been hurt to take away a little of the pain he was carrying somewhere too, even if both of them didn't want to admit it. So she didn't argue with him or try to tell him again that she didn't love Nicol the way she loved him, and she pursed her lips together.

"The Freedom's been stolen,' he said abruptly, changing the topic because he was tired of thinking and tired of knowing that he was playing a game with nearly all his cards open to the world whereby he lost much and gained little or no affection from the very person who mattered to him more than anything .

"And Lacus Clyne is a traitor. What do you make of all of that now?" he continued abruptly, and he slowly wrenched his hands form her shoulders and threw himself into the pilot's seat, looking stubbornly at the screens with the status of all the parts of the Duel and not bothering to look at Shiho.

"I've never met her," Shiho replied emotionlessly, still standing where he had left her, "I wouldn't know what she's capable of."

"So you mean that if you meet a person, you know what they're capable of there and then?" he scoffed, keying in some code into the system for lack of better option.

"Yes," she answered, and he knew that she had came up from behind and was standing directly behind him.

He considered what she had said and placed a hand over his face and closed his eyes, then he said in a muffled tone, "What did you think I was capable of doing when I met you when we were children?"

"I knew you were the type who got into fights faster than anyone else," she replied in a low voice, "I knew you were capable of hurting people and hurting yourself even when we were children."

"All that negative stuff" he snorted, turning slightly so he could se her standing there with her head low and bowed, "Nothing nice?"

"I knew," she continued as if she didn't hear the sarcasm or the word she spoke for that matter even, "that you were capable of winning because you had a streak of pride somewhere and wouldn't give up so easily."

And he thought of the way he had woken up in the infirmary with tubes sticking out everywhere and the doctors telling him that he could have died if he hadn't had a fighting spirit so strong that he withstood a full-out assault from the Strike, although the scar running across his face was testimony to the fact that he hadn't been unscathed either.

Then he realised that he had been staring absently at her for a long time and Yzak instantly realized that his cheeks were flaming for no reason at all, except that she was still not looking at him but tilting her head slightly so that her eyes were well focused on a spot in the cockpit.

He could have liked her innocently like the way most were entitled to loved her the way teenagers often had crazy, wild emotions and had crushes and that sort of thing they had talked about it school. But he wasn't in school anymore, he was fighting a war, and by Coordinator standards, he was an adult, and he had killed more than a few already. How could he love her as simply as what it was ought to be?

"This war will be ending soon," he interrupted his thoughts determinedly, training his blue eyes on hers, "And the N-jammer prototype is with us, so the next few battles will be a breeze."

"It will be a breeze," she repeated mechanically, not looking at him still, but looking past him.

"And when this war is over," he said, surprising himself by the gentleness his own voice held, "and if we're both still alive, and if you want help, I'll give it to you."

"I suppose you want the engagement to still hold?" she whispered, snapping her eyes up briefly to meet his before they dropped again.

"No," he muttered, "No strings attached whatsoever."

"If we're still alive when this war's over," she said quietly, and then her voice grew louder and more confident, "I want to be friends with you."

"Weren't we always friends?" he said brokenly, but then he offered a smile although his stomach was clenching and unclenching itself. Then he looked at her and saw that she was smiling too, and he felt a little less nauseous when she said softly, "We always will be then."

It was terribly strange, Yzak reflected later, his friends were either dead or MIA, save for Athrun back in PLANT. And he didn't even know if Athrun had the heart to remain in the war fighting for the Coordinators. That left Shiho and him. And there he was, willing to put so much at stake for a single person while knowing that he would be a substitute at best for Nicol Amalfi.

But he didn't mind, because believing in something was better than having nothing to believe in at all.

And Shiho Hahenfuss was a little more than a child at times, lost and innocent with the ways of the world, she could kill, every soldier in ZAFT was trained to, let alone a redcoat, but then he was sure she hadn't killed before. And then he was doubtful whether he deserved to try and make her feel for him they way he did for her because of his hands that were stained with so much blood.

"We will always be friends," he repeated very steadily, looking up at her from where he was sitting, and he stood up and pulled her towards him, noting the easy manner she slid into his embrace almost like she was made to fit there. Then he kissed her fiercely and roughly brushed away the tears that had unwittingly gathered at the ends of her eyes and hung of her eyelashes like pearls.

"Now go," he said, but not unkindly, "And stay alive."

"And you?" she replied softly, extracting herself from his arms and gulping a little.

"I'll try to stay alive too," he said ruefully, "And my mother will be waiting for me, although she's probably busy with all that blasting on the radio as Chairman Zala's top supporter. Probably trying to locate where Lacus Clyneis doing her own broadcasts,"

He didn't know whether he approved or not, just that he wanted to kill anyone who hurt people he wanted to protect, and that included the Naturals who had hurt his mother a long time ago.

Yzak Joule had a general disdain for Naturals that had deepened into hatred over time, coupled with his volatile nature and unforgiving ruthlessness at times, he was brought into a killer and was aided and abetted by Rau Le Creuset, although he didn't know it at that time. But he was only a pawn in the war, and pawns didn't know they were being manipulated until it was too late.

So now he watched as Shiho moved out of the cockpit and didn't bother looking back. Her ship would be leaving soon, and then he'd probably never see her again unless they both landed back in PLANT, and they'd promised to be friends if they ever had a chance to meet again. He didn't want to be her friend, he wanted to be more than that, but now wasn't' the time. He had some Naturals to kill.

But that was what he thought, and when the time came to fight during the Battle of Porta, he was unable to kill once the enemies were rendered helpless with the N-jammers.

So he watched from an elevated position in his mobile weapon and saw the soldiers being brought out and made to kneel, their hands behind their back, their heads bowed in their last prayers, as a single officer, whoever the damned one was, went down a line and shot each and everyone of the helpless pilots through their heads or between their eyes.

The blood splattered everywhere, and the smell of rust and something else that sickened him was apparent everywhere when he alighted from his own weapon.

'It could have been me," was all he thought that day and he recalled the terrible grief and fear in the eyes of those who had died without a chance to fight for themselves that day.

Yzak Joule, for all his rage and hatred for those against the Coordinators, wasn't without his pride and honour, and it sickened him now to realise that the world wasn't as simple as black-and-white wars with clear winners and sides that won or lost fair and square.

The last time he would see Shiho for the present, that is, he thought wryly, I there even was a future when they made it out of the mess the world was in, was during the flight with all the soldiers to the grounds where Shiho would follow her ship back and they'd go their separate ways.

The Commander had been strange as of lately, he would have an expression of intense pain sometimes, and that was strange considering how most of his face was masked. And once, Yzak caught him swallowing pills that he had never seen before, and he didn't suppose those were for a headache or anything of that sort.

And there was a girl who had joined them on board the Vesalius, Fllay something, since he had heard the commander addressing her.

It had been his duty to stand next to the Commander on the flight back even while the other soldiers were seated while he had to stand there when he was of a higher rank. Nothing in this world made sense anymore.

And he barked at the girl, "Sit!" the way he would have addressed a dog, since she was a creature of pitiful countenance, a Natural, quite obviously. It was clear she was quite frightened of Coordinators and had an edgy look in her eyes when she obeyed him instantly.

Yzak got a good look at her when she sat next to the Commander, she had very striking features with long silky red hair and grey eyes, and she was quite beautiful, really. But he didn't care much for her, he didn't even know why she was there, and he couldn't be bothered to find out either.

But from what he observed, the girl was quite dependent on the commander; she leaned close to him during the turbulence and was very keen to stay near him as if he was the only person she wasn't afraid of. But Yzak could see that something in her was unstable, very unpredictable and very wild. So he avoided her.

But he knew she was staring at him, perhaps wondering where he had gotten his scar or how pale his colouring was. He didn't even bother feeling self-conscious because he didn't really have to prove anything to a Natural. She kept eyeing him as if she wanted to try and make a conversation, but he didn't bother trying to speak to her at all, and she eventually gave up before she even started.

She was strange, he decided while standing there with his hands behind him in the customary position when asked to be at ease, she was timid but obviously, she had been used to getting her way, he could tell that somehow. And she was woefully displaced, in a ship filled with Coordinators and the only Natural amongst their midst.

Nearby in another seat at the back, Shiho watched a red-haired girl staring at Yzak and wondered what she was up to. A Natural on board the Vesalius? That was strange. But she had seen Yzak snap at the girl and felt sorry for her because Yzak wasn't trying to be mean or anything, he was just like that.

And Shiho briefly wondered why she had allowed herself to become so attached to him and so needy of a person at all. She had annulled the engagement back then because she had been filled with pride and anger at being subject to someone else's will but her own, and she didn't want to marry him just for the sake of following instructions.

When she had returned to Aprilius after her father died, Ezalia had sent for her, and something told Shiho that nobody else knew of the fact that she was back in Aprilius One.

Ezalia, still beautiful but with the edge in her quite similar to Yzak had asked concernedly enough, "How are you feeling, my dear?"

Her own father had called her that once, but she hadn't liked it and asked him not to. And now, a complete stranger was addressing her by the same term of endearment, and Shiho had to fight the nausea and grief that rushed over her. And she had to fight the ruge to scream in rage, "How would you be feeling if your own father just died?"

"Fine," she said politely even though a wave of pain had swept over her.

"You know," Ezalia had begun tactfully, "Your father mentioned the engagement before he passed on, didn't he?"

"Yes," Shiho had said with a slight pause, "He said I was engaged to your son."

"Now," Ezalia said, her tone suddenly brisk and business-like, "I am in all favour of that arrangement, after all, I made it myself, but I need your consent since your father cannot approve and finalise it. "

"May I ask something?" she had whispered painfully.

"Go ahead," Ezalia had said cautiously, realising this could be the start of unwanted complications, and she had been quite right because Shiho had looked at her and asked softly, "Why would you allow your son to take a wife like me? There are plenty of other girls with better credentials than I can ever begin to imagine."

And Ezalia had sighed, but she eventually turned around and said, "It's not the matter of credentials, and I'm not so ruthless as to pick a girl based on her credentials, as crude as that sounds by itself. You're asking me why I approached Steiner Hahenfuss and offered this the first day I met his daughter? I cannot tell you now because the time isn't ripe nor right. One day you will know why I asked specifically for Shiho Hahenfuss for my son."

And that insecurity was enough to drive Shiho insane in her anguish and she had said fiercely, "I'm annulling the engagement as of this moment; I don't need the help you're offering if I agree to the engagement."

Ezalia Joule had remained rooted firmly in her seat, not saying anything to try and convince Shiho otherwise, but then Shiho caught a glimpse of her face before she marched out, and she saw that the beautiful azure eyes, presumably once sparkling and bright, were dulled with grief and pain.

She knew Yzak Joule didn't particularly like her and she didn't want him to like her either, but that had been in the past. When she realised that she had nowhere that truly belonged to her, she had enlisted and met him again, and then slowly, she had gotten used to him. And now he was saying he didn't mind her, and she was filled with a naive happiness but knew everything was confusion.

Her words couldn't make him understand anything, so she tried to ot her arms around him, but he didn't understand either. And if they made it through the war, alive, they'd be friends. Shiho was fine with that, and she sighed involuntarily and watched the Natural girl glance almost sneakily at Yzak.

And when the ship landed and she caught a final glimpse of Yzak moving off in another direction as opposed to the one she was moving in, she felt a dull ache and wanted to cry, but then she clenched her jaw tightly and promised herself that she'd be glad if he even made it through this alive.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD, but I guess you already knew that because this thing's called fanfiction, doh. R&R Please!

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Chapter 9 

And Yzak dreamt every night and woke up screaming in pain, feeling the metal graze and shred the skin stretched over the flesh of his face and he would trace the scar with trembling fingers, feel the humiliation and relive the pain, and swore to get his revenge.

But sometimes, he would dream that Shiho Hahenfuss was his and nobody else's and he welcomed the nightmares instead because they didn't leave him feeling lost and bitter when he was awake. He could deal with fear and the feeling of rage, but he didn't know how to control the feeling of longing and lost hope.

Then they sent him to fight at the Battle of JOSH-A-Operation Spitbreak, and he had been prepared to kill the pilot in the ZGMF-X10A Freedom although everything around him in the inferno and chaos seemed to meld into a single, solitary, impending question.

"Is this right?" he said aloud to himself, well aware that the tightness in his voice was making it tremble suddenly.

But there were many things that a person should not question about if he chose to go to war by enlisting as Yzak Joule had done.

The first was whether the orders of the superior were right when commands had already been issued.

The second was whether or not one could make his own decisions when given a specific order.

The third, whether the war they were fighting in was correct or not.

The last, whether or not a person could still love another after killing so many others in cold blood.

It wasn't that these questions were useless ones with obvious answers, in fact, they were forbidden to even be thought of because they were potential firebombs, the kind that could spark off an entire defection. And Yzak was well aware of that because he suspected, although this was in secret, that Lacus Clyne had asked herself those questions and then done the unthinkable because of the answers she had desired to obtain through asking those dangerous questions he eradicated from his mind.

The footage was all over PLANT now as she was being declared a traitor. She was seen with a soldier in a redcoat he had never seen before in his life, and cow sense could tell that he had been the pilot of the Freedom when it had launched from PLANT and left Lacus Clyne behind as a traitor. He knew Siegel Clyne was dead, how else would Patrick Zala have been chairman so easily?

"Hard to do that now," he thought tightly as he watched a mobile suit from the other side explode. Another family broken now, he thought woodenly, maybe it was better that soldiers always remained soldiers and didn't have families they'd end up hurting sooner or later.

Then he saw the Freedom swooping majestically upon him with its azure wings and he was filled with an insurmountable rage once more. How dare it swoop down and descend upon him as if it were qualified to pass judgement on his life and condemn him in the way it seemed to be doing now?

And with a bellow of insanity and hatred, he controlled his suit into a complicated series of turns and launched it against the Freedom, firing wildly at it,trying to aim for the cockpit, slashing wildly but always finding the shield in his way. The lazers he shot at it seemed to be magically deflected away, but then he knew it was only an illusion, the Freedom was so fast it was dodging ever single attack.

Then Yzak was slashing too in frustration and screaming in rage, but he was always missing, always failing. And then the Freedom ejected a sword and in a singular, spectacular swipe Yzak saw only at the last moment, he thought he was going to die.

A million thoughts raced through his head, of the violets he had crushed in the garden, his mother appearing on the television to proclaim that the war would not end until every Natural was dead, Fllay Alster looking fearfully up at him with hope in her eyes that he wouldn't mind her so much for being a Natural, Shiho's cold, murderous eyes when he had first kissed her and she had resisted, and then he thought of Nicol's smile and ready laughers, Dearka's cheerful nature and wacky sense of humour, Rusty's scream when he was shot through the head, Miguel's placid ways and dry laugh, and Athrun's wise, aged eyes and the pain in those eyes that looked the same as Shiho's.

'I'm going to die,' he thought desperately closing his eyes for a second, then he opened them to check he wasn't dreaming and his blue eyes widened and dilated, 'I'm going to die!'

Then he felt the terrible, deadly-accurate slash going across and he was silent even though his heart race whiles the mobile suit he was in threatened to collapse and give way due to the lack of support.

The Freedom had sliced off only the suit's legs and had left him virtually unscathed. Then he was in the damaged Duel, carted off even while the other suits, regardless of which side they were on, ran for their lives. The CYCLOPS system would cause an explosion withint a ten meter radius, and someone from inside the Freedom shouted to him, breaking through his stunned, frozen state, "Go before it's too late!"

He did. As far as he could see, several ZAFT mobile suits and submarines had been swift enough to make it it too,but that was only because they had heeded the Freedom's warning.

And he was alive as he looked and saw with horror that everything in the loci had been reduced to nothing but smoke and rubble while he stared at the carnage from a high point.His heart palipitate and Yzak was only able to stammer to nobody in particular, "Why am I still living?"

And of course, nobody could answer him.

But someone had shown him mercy, and that watered the seed of doubt he had tried to crush and destroy and manipulate into loyalty for so long. Doubt in what he had been believing in began to spread like vines and he choked, his grip on the weapon controls growing tighter and tighter until he had to wrench them away with as much force as the hands that were holding the controls themselves.

When he was recalled back, he unlocked the cockpit and alighted, descending form the wire rope and pedal as per usual, but Yzak was reminded of the way the gundam with the magnificent azure wings had descended down on him and regarded him regally, and he was filled with more doubt and troubling question than ever.

And for the first time in his life, he wondered what someone else might have done in that situation. Yzak Joule wasn't a self-centred person in the truest nature of the words, it was just that hatred had consumed so much of him that really, there was only himself left to hate and that put more attention on his own being than anyone or anything else around him. And that very same hatred was gnawing at his core now and he asked himself forlornly as he watched dozens of soldiers being carried to the infirmary because of the fierce fighting that had taken place, "Was the reason why I fought because I wanted to end this war?"

It was an irony in itself. Fighting for peace. A literal paradox in the most blatant detraction from the true meaning of peace. And he realised suddenly, that he had known it was wrong quite some time ago, but he hadn't allowed himself to venture into that danger zone where thinking about what was right and what was not could get you killed as easily as the sun set in the evening.

Shiho had been right all along, he thought dully, he really didn't know what he was doing. And Yzak half-suspected that he didn't want to know either. This was because he was a person who could hate as much as he loved, and in the rare times when he actually loved, it was blurred with hatred. Same as the consequence of his fighting. Fighting for peace made him a monster that had a terrible bloodlust and desire to kill.

And Yzak glanced into the mirror and roared with rage at the state of chaos the world and his own mind was in, and he picked up his gun and fired two shots into the mirror where the glass smashed and his reflection was multiplied a hundred times in the splinters.

An hour later, he regretted doing what he had to his room. It was a bloody mess of broken glass and a smashed chair lay silently at the side as if to berate the way he had expressed his frustration and rage.

"But I'll believe what ever I have to," he vowed tightly to himself, "I'll do that and I'll go back and I'll see those I want to see again. I'll do whatever it takes to stay alive through this."

The scar was searing like a fire across parched land and his fingered it painfully and looked at the chaos around him.

Then Yzak was suddenly tired, like a typhoon, he had spent himself by just rage alone, and he sank into his bed, kicked off his boots and lay there for a long time looking at the ceiling which wasn't very high either. How could a room for a soldier, no mater what his class was, be high as if a chandelier could dangle from its midst? Impossible.

His thoughts ran to his comrades again, and Yzak felt a gush of pain seeping through like acid into his body and flinched. Nicol dead, Rust dead, Miguel dead, Dearka MIA, Athrun missing, there was only him left. He had heard rumours that Athrun Zala had defected, but he wasn't sure of these, but he swore there and then that he'd make Athrun pay if the rumours were true.

And there was the Shiho Hahenfuss. She had made him love and hate her both at the same time, and he didn't know if he hated her because she made him love her or he hated her for not realising she could wield so much power over him but didn't know the full extent of that power itself. And why he loved her? He didn't know why sometimes, she was lovely, true, but then she was awkward with words sometimes and she was the sort you'd rather leave in a corner to do whatever she wanted to do.

But he was in favour of believing that he loved her. And no more now, he swore vengefully, no more. He wanted to pretend none of this had happened, because Yzak was convinced the war would end very quickly once the N-Jammer was used to its full extent, and then he'd go home and try to be friends with her and forget that he had hurt himself in hurting her once.

And maybe life would be normal after that.

The next day, he woke up and left the room, not bothering to clear up the mess but leaving the door open because the petties would clear it up. He had nothing in the room worth taking; there was really nothing that Yzak treasured whatsoever, because the place he slept in was simply a room for being alone. And Yzak wanted to be alone but he didn't want to be alone, he was lonely but he was a lone wolf, and he was agreeable most of the time but a contradiction the next time, and he was decisive but he didn't know what he wanted.

The next battle he was at was the Battle of Porta Panama. It was a terrible one, filled with injustice and biasness that should have let him rejoice knowing that he wouldn't have to fight or battle so much or so hard to win. But he looked from an elevated position from the cockpit and watched the helpless soldiers being hauled out and settled in a line, and a ZAFT soldier took a gun and shot every one of them. And Yzak wondered if it made sense that he felt pity for them when all that was suppose to matter in this war was winning.

He had been battling with a mobile suit he recognised as a GAT-01D Long Dagger unit, and the battle had been pretty much of a stalemate and he had been tiring rapidly. But then the Gungnir-EMP was employed and his worthy opponent was rendered helpless. Yzak hadn't bothered with it after that, he had just retreated because he couldn't bring himself to defeat an opponent which couldn't even protect itself.

The next few days were filled with nights that held the stench of blood and nightmares whereby he would awake screaming in terror.

The Three Ships Alliance had risen, that was as much as he knew, and that consisted the Eternal, ORB's Kusanagi, and the Archangel which he had spent nearly a year of his life trying to pursue and bring down. And before he launched, the commander showed the soldiers footage of the soldiers already out there fighting, and he saw a blood-red gundam and identified it as the Justice, and that meant the pilot was-

"Athrun Zala,"he said aloud in absolute disbelief and wondered what the hell had been going on.

The commander looked at him and Yzak saw that he was smirking, and something wormed its way through him, and he pushed away the sudden disconcertment he was suppressing and said carefully,suddenly remembering the situation he was in, "Wasn't he back at PLANT?"

"He was a traitor," the commander said carelessly, and his blond hair swept a little to the side as the gravity pull fluctuated while they spoke. Very much like Miguel's own hair colour, the colour was, and Yzak remembered the way Miguel had died and grit his teeth, not quite hearing what the commander said.

But he understood that Athrun had gone against this own father and had escaped to joint the Eternal, headed by Lacus Clyne.

"Traitors, all of them are," he thought furiously, 'Damn them all.'

"So go out there and do your best," the commander was continuing to say casually as if Yzak was merely going in his mobile weapon to retrieve some apples for dessert later.

And he ignored the tone the commander was applying and his eyes darkened involuntarily from blue to a merle grey. So he charged out the minute the catapult was online and he was ready to launch, and then in the Battle of Mendelas he slashed down and broke down suit after suit, he was surprised that he didn't attack with as much fervour as before and felt strangely at ease that those he had defeated wouldn't die. Just like the way he had been given mercy. But later, those who he had shown mercy would come back tokill him and his actions would haunt him for the rest of his life.

But suddenly, he spotted a cream and green suit cutting its way towards him, and he realised with a jolt of terror that it was the Buster Gundam. Either Dearka had been killed, his weapon t taken and thus effectively reused, or his best friend had defected too.

"Dearka!" Yzak screamed in an insane rage, "How dare you?"

And through the communicator, his friend's voice, as cool as you might please flew across effortlessly, and although it was a trifle muffled, they both heard what he said next.

"Yzak," Dearka began, but Yzak failed to detect or even pick out the note of concern in his friend's voice, "We both can see I'm here."

"You traitor!" he roared in rage, and he attacked the gundam but Dearka avoided his swipes with a little, but not so much difficulty.

"Shut up and listen," Dearka hissed poisonously, and out of sheer habit, Yzak paused, panting, his hand tightened around the controls and the sweat plastering his hair to his forehead while the helmet around him felt terribly stifling suddenly.

"I'm not betraying ZAFT or PLANT," Dearka said, suddenly quiet but terribly sure of himself, "Just that after being in the Archangel's brig, I know not to look down on the Naturals. They are worthy of respect."

"What?" Yzak began to scream, and then he shot out in a rapid crossfire of words, "You're being deceived into believing what you say now!"

And there was a long pause and for a split-second, Yzak thought the communicator had malfunctioned and taken Dutch leave on him. He was about to curse and hit the infernal device with his hand, but a minute later, Dearka's voice came through, as steady as before but poorly concealing some distaste and some pain in it.

"I wonder which of us is really being deceived," he said softly.

And Yzak watched his friend move of swiftly in a state of stunned silence.

Which of them was being deceived?

Which?

Which one?

Dearka or-

Or-

Him?

He spent his whole life fighting to end this pain and misery that had caused his mother to be like that, and he wanted a place where nobody would pass judgement on each other because of their origins. And didn't that mean that the Naturals all had to die?

Didn't it?

But who was being deceived?

Who?

Then something exploded in his head while he saw the recall signal being fired off in the distance. The brilliant spark did nothing to control his confusion and pathetic mental sate, and he screamed and shook his head furiously until he had sufficiently calmed down and could use the hands gripping tightly on the manuoevers to move himself back to where he had came from.

"Damn it!" he cried helplessly, and he saw, through his screen the carnage and the wreck left around him and wanted to cry out in agony.

When he looked at the commander the next time, he caught himself looking at the person he had trusted so much with foreign, hostile eyes, and he knew he was fighting as losing battle within himself. He was being fooled.

And he flipped on the television when nobody was around and wondered why he was sneaking around when it was perfectly sane to be watching the news.

Patrick Zala, hard, unforgiving lines etched into his face was saying angrily, "The Naturals must all be eliminated for this war to end! If not, the Coordinators will be suppressed-,"

And Yzak idly flipped to another channel where there was a programme about cooking showing. He had enough of those speeches, he gave himself one everyday just to keep him here in this bloody war, he didn't need Patrick Zala spreading the gospel either.

Hadn't the chairman said, "We must defeat all Naturals?"

"Go do it yourself then," Yzak thought suddenly with an irrational anguish and frustration welling up uncontrollably in him, "You old bastard."

Shiho had slipped behind him once after they had agreed to use him as Nicol's substitute a month before this, and she had looked at him forlornly and said very simply with an unintentional touch of bluntness, "May I borrow your back?"

He had been puzzled, but he turned around obligingly enough and felt a weight moving onto it, slowly, and with a thump of his heart, he realised that she had sat down behind and placed her head on his back, resting there very quietly.

Then he had felt terribly awkward because he didn't know how to be kind to her and had barked irrationally, although it fell a little short, "Go do something at least beneficial, don't waste your time leaning here. Maybe the war will end faster if we all do our best to defeat the Naturals."

And her reply had came after a little pause, and he could hear her words vibrating against his back as she said softly, "Easier said than done."

Then she had gotten up and left and she didn't come back after that until the announcement had been made that her ship would separate from the Vesalius and she had gone to see him in the Duel's cockpit for the last time.

Patrick Zala wanted ZAFT to hurry up and defeat the Naturals didn't he?

'Go try it yourself', he thought furiously watching the cook cut up carrots and dump them into the pot of boiling water where the potatoes had been stewing in for a while now, 'Go try watching heads being chopped off like carrots and blood spilling everywhere while their hands are tied behind their backs and their weapons are useless because of the Gungnir EMP and the N-jammers.'

And he watched the soup being proudly presented and the chef beaming and he snorted and flipped off the program.

Damn them all.

He didn't allow himself to think of Shiho after they had parted their own ways, that had been a crime, and then he promised himself it was over and done with, but now, he imagined her standing somewhere nearby and staring moodily at something in the distance.

Yzak Joule was going to try his best to treat her like a comrade after this, no hidden feelings, no subtle pleas to feel for him the way he felt for her, nothing.

But easier said than done.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter10

He cursed her the next time he saw her.

It wasn't supposed to be as difficult as this, or as complicated as what everything was trying to seem.

Yzak had already made up his mind to get through the war as quickly as possible and go back and try to be friends and really, nothing more than that with Shiho Kyrie Hahenfuss, and he was really prepared to go kill all those who stood in his way and forget the way she could make him look at the world through eyes other than his own.

But from the look of things, it was really quite difficult at this stage, impossible, if a person wanted to be either very pessimistic or overtly accurate.

Yzak Joule was a redcoat, the elite of ZAFT, respected for his loyalty and fierce pride in his duties and obligations, and he would have killed the Naturals just so the war could end and the Coordinator's welfare would be prioritised. But Dearka Elseman appeared and blithely unearthed the seed of doubt from the abyss he had placed it in, and now it took root and grew faster than he could control it.

So there wasn't much of a hope fighting in the war with the same eyes as before.

His second decision had been for himself, how he would forget Shiho and try not to feel the aching pain, and then he'd ignore her if he could. When she had left, it had worked, that he was terribly sure of.

But now, the bugger was back, yes, back!

And Yzak stared in shock at the pilot in the redcoat who had slipped of her helmet and was staring straight back at him. Her hair was neatly bundled and the ends and her eyes were very sharp and alert.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed hatefully. Bloody idiot just had to reappear now, didn't she?

"Providing assistance," she answered without missing a beat and tucking her helmet securely under an arm and continuing to direct her unwavering gaze on him. And he squirmed internally because he felt an urge to relive some past childhood grudge and stamp and trample on violets for the heck of it all.

"I don't need it," he spat angrily, not quite angry at her, but angry at the fact that she had to reappear and take away his other hope of fulfilling what he had set out to do. First his best friend, then now her. The gods somewhere must have been laughing and chortling and using him for entertainment, but he didn't find it funny in the least.

"Look," she interrupted sharply, frowning a little, "Do you want to do a recap of how many redcoats and how many soldiers who can pilot mobile weapons are left? I can summarise it in a single sentence if you want, because there will be sub-zero if this war continues with outcomes like that for ZAFT."

She didn't yell or raise her voice, but it had an instant quietening effect on him, and he was forced to keep his voice low even though he would have honestly preferred to rial and blast himself hoarse.

"You didn't come here by your own free will, did you?" he demanded tightly, and his voice was harsh and unforgiving.

"Since when does a soldier have his own free will?" she replied smoothly in neutral tones although something flickered in her eyes and he recognised it was hurt. But he didn't say anything because he was over and done with the whole thing, starting it again would leave him lifeless this time and Yzak didn't want that.

So he stared at Shiho, wondering if time would ever change her. She hadn't been an extrovert since she was a child anyway, not that eh remembered much, but then she seemed to stubbornly retain her ways and appeared resistant to changes. Shiho was the sort who'd listen to advice and instructions, and then she'd follow them if she wanted to or had to, but then she'd go off and do what she liked to do at the same time because frankly, she didn't give a hoot what anyone else did in comparison to what she was doing.

"All those I know have become traitors," he said softly, willing himself not to contort his features with rage, "Dearka, Athrun, even Lacus Clyne."

"Traitors," she echoed softly, her voice mellow and placid as if she had only commented that the weather was nice, "Traitors to you and PLANT or ZAFT, but they probably aren't traitors to their own hearts because they betrayed PLANT and ZAFT as you said."

"Heart?" he cried bitterly and in anguish, "What heart? We enlisted because we wanted to end this war, didn't we? Joining the Naturals won't make it end!"

"No," she replied confidently, her voice growing stronger with every word she proceeded to enunciate, "But nobody can prove they fight for the Naturals."

"They aren't fighting for ZAFT," he spat, his voice laced with poison, "And if they aren't fighting for the Naturals and Blue Cosmos either, then what on earth are they fighting for?"

She looked at him inexplicably with an unreadable expression on her face, and for a heart-stopping split-second, Yzak thought she was going to cross over the distance between them in front of all the stationary mobile weapons in the storage grounds and put her arms around him. But something flashed across her face and she stood there, firmly rooted to the ground the way a tree would have been.

And he had to swallow something like disappointment and watched her say quietly, "I think all of them fight in their own ways which they deem is best, andin the likeliest scenario, all of them who you deem as traitors are fighting for what you have been fighting for."

Yzak simply stared at her, his eyes slightly widened and his mind more troubled than ever. She strode off to the GINNs parked in the corner and he heard her unzipping her collar slightly to breathe better, and against his better judgement he moved along in her direction and hurried slightly after her.

She ignored him and pulled a laptop to her and sat down on a chair and proceeded to plug in wire after wire from one GINN until it looked like there was a shrub of wires enveloping most of her lap. Then Shiho started to type furiously at the keys and her eyes streamed from corner to corner as the statistics of the weapons poured in.

"Will you be fighting out there soon?" he asked dispassionately although his heart was twisted in fear if he received a positive reply.

"No," she said absently, shuffling the wires around, and the humongous GINN's sensor that was its eyes started winking and beeping noises were heard, "I requested to with my status as a redcoat, but then my captain ordered me to work on these. At least if there are casualties, or rather, more than what we expect, improvements can be done to these to give us an edge over the rest."

"You hypocrite," he said icily, "You say they aren't traitors because they fight in their own way, but then you're plotting to kill the Naturals by helping ZAFT."

Shiho looked up at him and her eyes weren't offended but cold, as dispassionate as the tone he had used on her before.

"You may be right," was all she said, and she proceeded to continue with her work and he was forced to remain mum.

He was standing there watching her do her work and contemplating what he ought to say next. But it wasn't necessary because words were quite useless then, and she was unfathomable in his opinion and Yzak was really stumped where it came to Shiho Hahenfuss.

"Tell me what you want to do after the war,' she said suddenly, and when she glanced up, he saw a flicker of dreaminess flit over the purple expanse but a second later, it was missing and there wasn't anything there at all. So she had dreams too.

"I don't know," he said honestly but briefly," I didn't think of it. And who thinks of anything else but fighting when they are in the midst of war?"

And Shiho looked away and said wistfully, almost talking to herself instead of him, "You may be right."

Afraid that she wouldn't speak and then the situation would b awkward if neither of them spoke after this, he eagerly cut in, forgetting he had been frustrated with her a few minutes ago, "What are yours in that case then?"

"I want to spend more time on research,' she replied quite decisively, "And then I'll think what I can do as I get along."

'That's if you're alive by the end of this,' he thought ruefully, 'And I wonder if will be after this war too.'

"I don't know if I'll be alive after this though," she said quietly, almost as if she had read his thoughts, but he surprised her by interrupting and saying fiercely, "You will be."

Shiho looked up at him in amazement although she didn't say a word, but then she smiled briefly and looked down, but he had seen the softening in her eyes and how innocent she looked when she smiled.

And he felt a wave of regret gush over him like an encroaching tide that hit the coast, because if their parents hadn't manipulated them, he might have fallen in love with her on his own accord. And maybe, just maybe, if she hadn't been manipulated like him either, she might have loved him back on her own accord.

"How did you escape from the CYCLOPS system during the Battle of Porta?" she said softly, looking right at him, and he recalled the Strike and had to repress a shudder at the way he had been spared to live the rest of his life in humiliation that someone form the enemies' side had shown him mercy.

"The Freedom didn't kill me," he admitted tightly, fiddling with his collar, well aware that he gaze was unflinching and unwavering all at once, "And the pilot pushed me away after he dodged all my attacks,then he warned me to get away so I didn't die."

"The circumstances in which almost equal numbers of ZAFT and EA troops were lost in the CYCLOPS system is questionable," Shiho noted briefly, tugging slightly at a wire which had been entangled.

"Are you implying someone here is a traitor?" he said loudly, glaring at her.

"I didn't say anything of that sort," she shot back, and then she promptly keyed in something and a strange look passed over her face.

"I wonder if the Freedom is fighting for the Earth Alliance," she said thoughtfully, sitting where she was and pausing her rapid typing for a minute or two before she continued.

"I don't know," he replied, equally baffled, "But it doesn't seem to be. And neither does the ship it returned to, the Archangel. Perhaps there are defectors from Earth Alliance's side too."

"I suppose so," she answered readily, "And I believe that they will win in the end."

"Win?" he asked bitterly, ready to pick a fight with Shiho, "How do they win when they aren't on anyone's side?"

She was quiet and her gaze flickered upwards and she said softly, "Do you have to be on anybody's side to win a war? And even if ZAFT or Earth Alliance wins, what is the cost of winning?"

And he realised what she was trying to say in that instant. The blood of another didn't contribute to the path that led to victory, and in any case, was victory really peace? But he pushed away the thoughts and a crease of worry formulated on his face.

Shiho looked at him carefully and felt regret course through her. She hadn't been so involved in the war so much that she had the scars he carried, physically or mentally, and least of all, emotionally. He would be eighteen soon, but now his eyes were those of an older person's, and her heart ached for the little fragments of lost dreams Yzak must have once carried and lost after he had killed one after another.

An entire ship had been shot down by him. And they weren't soldiers either.

She had been so livid that at that time she had called him a monster. And he had kissed her and Shiho had been frightened by the lingering affection in his eyes and had trembled inwardly because she wanted to hug him and tell him that she wasn't going anywhere although she knew she couldn't allow herself to do exactly that.

Frustrated, she had turned tail and fled. She had been willing to forget him and get on with her work and research but they had called her to the Vesalius with the others, and really, there was absolutely no way she could escape seeing him even if she went out of her way to do so. The Vesalius wasn't so large that after two weeks, she wouldn't meet the silver-haired Lord of the Joule House again.

'He was probably the only one who ever held that title', she mused silently, she had heard rumours about his family background before, or more accurately, the lack of family thereof. She herself, had no reason to retain the title of Lady of the Hahenfuss House again after her father died. In an agricultural planet like Junius Seven, there hadn't been any need to either, because the hands of political systems were not long enough to completely meddle with the lives of the people who lived there.

And that was why PLANT had been in an uproar when the peaceful, harmless Junius Seven had been completely eradicated in a matter of seconds.

She had watched it herself, and she knew her father's remains, buried in a peaceful, grassy plot of land with others there, were gone. Shiho had cried a little, but then she had felt about as right as rain after that because she knew she had no obligations to be attached to the place anymore and that would cut off any emotional attachment to a place where nobody was waiting for her.

Lonely and saddled with a guardian who she knew was a sort of informant for Ezalia Joule, she had promptly enlisted. That had been the only way to escape form any influence and be totally independent with nobody tracking her every movement and trying to breathe down her neck. She had met Yzak Joule there and had been dumbstruck because she hadn't expected Ezalia Joule to let her own son enlist.

But it seemed that the Joule's young Lord was more than met the eye.

He had stuck her as bratty and terribly arrogant once, but when she had seen him again in ZAFT, she had seen pain in his eyes and understood where it came from suddenly, as if she had known him all her life. And she had allowed herself to be taken captive with his straightforward, if not brusque, approach to things and his clumsy sincerity even as he spoke his mind when it would offend the others.

By no means was he terribly handsome. Yzak Joule wasn't handsome in the princely fashion like Athrun Zala and Miguel Aiman, nor charming and easy-going like Dearka Elseman and Rusty Mackenzie. And he didn't have the simple, gentle ways of Nicol Amalfi either; instead, he was quite the polar opposite.

Granted, he was very good-looking, but with a mother like that, what else would anyone expect? His hair was sterling-silver, almost snow-white from some lights, and his eyes were a deep blue, almost midnight. His features were sometimes too sharp, angular and piercing for him to seem capable of granting a kind word on anyone, but his movements were precise and careful most of the time, and she knew by gut feeling that he wasn't the kind another would trifle with.

And so, Shiho Hahenfuss had grown attached to someone she couldn't allow herself to get attached to if she wanted any dignity and pride left. She couldn't swallow the fact that she had been manipulated in an engagement like this without her consent, whether she was attracted to Yzak Joule was out of the question. They'd go their separate ways now on.

"I'm leaving," he interrupted the silence very suddenly, and she looked up instantly, stunned by the interruption of thoughts and the fact that he was going to leave her there.

But he stared at her and smirked suddenly. And she didn't like the bitterness in the caricature of the smile nor the words he proceeded to speak.

"After this," he muttered cynically, "We'll meet again in PLANT, and I'll ask my mother to leave you and I alone. You'd like that, correct?"

She would have gotten up to slap him, stunned at the hard edge and bit in his voice, but then the next words he uttered were suddenly gentle and she wondered briefly to herself how much of a contradiction Yzak Joule could be.

Because his next words, uttered softly and gently, were as such.

"And then maybe you'll find a place that belongs to you."

Yzak bit his lips and looked away, willing her not to speak, and she didn't because she could sense they were useless against the circumstances both of them were now thrust into.

"I will," she promised silently to herself, "I will."

They gazed at something other than each other for a while until some mechanics came in and requested that Yzak let them take as look at his mobile weapon. He gave them his permission, and then left without looking back at her.

He didn't know that she was staring at his retreating back as he drifted off while suing the bars to guide his way along in the gravity-deficient grounds

And Yzak didn't know that she wasn't prepared to let go even thought he had already forced himself to.

Because if he had known, he might have held on as tightly as he could with all the might he could muster and thus, never let go of Shiho Hahenfuss either.

When he got back to his room, he read a letter that had been posted from Aprilius One. His mother's flowing cursive was scribbled as if she hadn't any time to write slowly and properly, but then he knew this was probably the case.

It was a short letter, quite to the point, no beating about the bush, but then Ezalia Joule had always been that way. Had she written words of endearment and affection to him, Yzak Joule would have thought that someone had been forcing her to write letters in some sort of conspiracy or another.

"How are you," she had written, or rather, scribbled, and he knew she wouldn't write to say she hoped he was fine because they both knew he wasn't.

His eyes darted from side to side in a lateral fashion as he continued to glance through, she had written that she was quite busy and he needn't reply to her because she was sure that he was too. She sent her well wishes and regards and some reminders for him to eat well, quite ironic in reality, Yzak thought dryly, since she was probably thinner now than the time he had last seen her. She wasn't the kind who practised what she preached when it came to health, but then he couldn't blame her either.

At the end of the letter, his mother had written, "When you come home, I need to tell you something very important and discuss this issue with you."

The words were cautious and were brief, not too explicit in the warning tone either, but then he chuckled bitterly to himself and threw the letter somewhere.

"Mother," he said softly to nobody in particular as he gazed at the ceiling, not seeing anything but imagining a blue sky with white clouds where there wasn't something to hold him down and take away his freedom, "If only you knew that I already know what you tried to do. If only you knew."

And he rolled over and closed his eyes, tired but still awake, lonely but filled with pride, miserable but unwilling to say anything, and then Yzak Joule tried to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD. PleaseR&R.

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Chapter 11

That night after the battle of JOSH-A, Yzak had been enslaved to his troubled thoughts until sleep was not an option at all.

The Battle of JOSH-A had been ZAFT's plan to take JOSH-A, the Earth Alliance's Atlantic Federation HQ, which failed eventually because the CYCLOPS system had activated and wiped out more than half the troops on each side.

The ZAFT counterintelligence officers had purposely allowed the majority of both ZAFT and Earth forces to believe that ZAFT's next target was Porta Panama and its mass driver. That included Yzak, and he hadn't realized that it had merely been a ploy.

As such, a large amount of the Earth Alliance forces were transferred to Panama to defend the base, effectively leaving JOSH-A open to attack, which was what Chairman Patrick Zala had been aiming for all along. That all made sense so far.

But, it the plan was not even disclosed to the whole of ZAFT, how was it that the Blue Cosmos group would come to know beforehand about the attack and set a trap for both ZAFT and the Eurasian Federation?

He lay on his back, his arms crossed securely behind him, and thought hard. Tonight, he would get no sleep until he solved the puzzle and got rid of the doubts nagging at the back of his mind.

The base had been primarily staffed and defended by Eurasian Federation personnel while the Atlantic Federation quietly transferred its own personnel elsewhere. And when ZAFT attacked, the Eurasian defenders resisted but were effectively wiped out in the face of overwhelming enemy numbers.

ZAFT's attack force was then lured into the central bay of JOSH-A when the base's Cyclops System was activated, killing most of the ZAFT attack force as well as what was left of the Eurasian defenders in addition to destroying the installation and everything else within a 10 km radius of the base in the process.

And Commander Le Creuset hadn't said anything that day, but Yzak had seen the look of triumph on his face.

'Strange', he thought morosely, 'How strange.'

Since hewn had a battle with more loss than gain allow the commander to rejoice? There was something wrong here, he had thought before giving up because the final piece was always slipping away before he could catch it and form the complete picture.

Then he cursed Shiho again for saying what she had that time and thus allowing him to think that train of thought. The commander would never betray them, never.

But now, it was more peculiar than ever.

"Catapult online, all systems green. Clear. Clear. Clear. Launch."

Damn that bridge officer, he thought furiously, squinting at his screen with its signals, formerly orange, now a bright vivid green, and the go signal to be exact.

Couldn't she at least put some kind of expression into her voice so that he'd know he had to launch there and then? With the way she said, 'Launch,' it was as good as a machine beeping some unintelligible signal which gave no indication that the he would have to launch the Duel and get involved with the battle straightaway.

He would make a mental note to complain about it later.

Then he glanced at the screen that showed him his surroundings. It was pathetic, it really was. There was fierce fighting at the side, his comrades were already busy in action with some EA mobile weapons, and there was a ZAFT GINN lying brokenly and floating around in terribly-damaged pieces. No hope of survival for the pilot then, he thought morosely and focused on the surroundings more to see if there were any other suits he could take down.

Complain about the bad system of launching? He certainly would. If he even made it out of this alive in the first place, that is. The PLANT Chairman had proclaimed that this would be the last battle of the war, and for once, Yzak knew the likelihood of the claim being true was high.

It had started off as the battle of conquering, where forces had been deployed to take over areas of the world in the quest for conquest. But then it had slowly morphed into something more terrible and more horrific, a conquest of extermination. And that meant everyone would be losers in the end.

Shiho had visited him about three hours ago and she had startled the heck out of him when he had turned around and suddenly saw her standing behind him then he actually stumbled a few steps back because she had given him a bit of a fright. Perhaps he had been so busy making the preparations to launch that he hadn't seen her at all, all perhaps she was really so quiet that nobody would notice her. It was probably a combination of both.

"You'll be leaving soon," she said dispassionately in her usual tone, and he knew it wasn't a question but a statement. It was typical of her to be like that, so sure footed and so emotionless.

Yzak nodded and turned back to the lockers he had been staring at for a while.

"Those were Nicol's things," he said suddenly, and he pointed at the sheets of music stashed in the locker that nobody had used.

Yzak didn't wait for her to respond, he simply walked to another, pointed at it, and continued tightly, "That's Dearka's locker, I always warned him that if he stored too many things in it, it would burst open. And it did."

He gestured violently and cursed the slight helplessness in his actions, motioning to the pile of miscellaneous items lying forlornly on the floor, pencils and papers, some notes and books and some shirts and socks. That kind of things.

She didn't make an effort to speak, and it wouldn't have mattered on any case because he laid a hand on the next one adjacent to Dearka's locker and muttered, "This is Athrun's. That person was a neat freak if there ever was one, he couldn't stand any mess and would stay back just to tidy up his locker. He hated anyone messing with eh things he put in so Dearka loved to do it just to get Athrun irrata-,"

And something choked in his voice and he lowered his gaze from the locker to the mirror at the side and saw again, that his pilot uniform, the one he had been so proud to wear, was the colour of blood.

Shiho remained silent for a few more seconds while he regained the composure he had partially lost, and then she said wistfully, "I'm going out to fight today with all of you."

Then she looked at a spot behind him and shut her eyes briefly then opened them again, but he had caught the slight worry in her eyes.

"What?" he cried in shock, "You're participating today?"

But the more he thought about it, the more he had no reason to be surprised. She was a redcoat for Pete's sake, if she didn't pilot today, then when would she? It wasn't like she was incompetent, quite the opposite actually, and ZAFT was desperate to stop the nuclear missiles form hitting PLANT, it was obvious nothing would be considered as going too far to save their homeland.

She glanced at him, her violet eyes intense but empty of any particular emotion all at the same time and nodded only once, and then she continued softly, "The chairman said today was the final battle, so it doesn't make sense for me to stay and wait for all of you to come back. All our available fleets will be used today, so I will pilot the CGUE and fight a while after you have launched."

And Yzak knew that even if Shiho had wanted to be deterred, it would be impossible to not let her fight in this battle, and a thread of worry bound his entrails and he had to swallow a bit.

When he launched, he saluted at the few soldiers who would launch a while after him. One of them was Shiho, and he allowed himself a smile that only she saw. She returned it and he was filled with helplessness as he launched and moved into the battle where the fiercest fighting was taking place already.

ZAFT's MS forces included over three thousand GINNs, CGUEs, and GuAIZs. He knew the forces out there. Also included were some variations such as the GINN High Mobility types and some CGUE DEEP Arms, and the tethered YFX-600R GuAIZ Experimental Firearms Type.

And then, quite against his better sense of judgment, Yzak looked out for the DEEP Arms units, because he knew one of them would be piloted by Shiho Hahenfuss today.

His GAT-X102 Duel, encased in the protective Assault Shroud was moving as quickly as it could under his control now, and he controlled it superbly so that he avoided the missiles coming his way.

Then he watched grimly as they exploded into some debris floating behind and levitated slightly so that he was ready for the next attack thrown by the Forbidden. The pilot was insanely excellent in his controls so far, but then it wasn't anything Yzak Joule couldn't handle even while it was obvious that the pilot was getting more and more aggressive, almost as if he was desperate to kill and be done with it.

But Yzak Joule didn't know that the person piloting the Forbidden was an Extended and the pilot was screaming in pain, desperate for the next dose of drugs, which was precisely the point of presenting the drugs in the first place. The drugs didn't only increase their spacial awareness and empowered them with abilities only Coordinators had, it was more than that. In fact, the drugs were chains themselves so the Extended couldn't' go against the Blue Cosmos.

He dodged a few of the attacks the Forbidden threw at him and moved swiftly off, meaning to turn back and slash if it followed, and then a beam was aimed at him but he ignored the explosion it created since he knew the Assault Shroud amour was infallible. Then he took advantage of tall the smoke and explosion aftermath around him and flipped neatly behind a floating mass of metal and carnage to fool the Calamity which took the bait quite successfully.

Breathing heavily through his nose and cursing the weight the helmet made on his head, Yzak zoomed the monitor in a lateral fashion, checking the sensors to see if the coast was clear. Apparently, Forbidden hadn't followed up with a check, it was too careless and it had already returned to its mother ship, perhaps to recharge.

But something was wrong about it, it was hovering in an almost dizzy sort of manner, its precise execution and movements marred by an almost zigzag piloting. But Yzak had better things to do than worry about that, he glanced around and saw the ZGMF-X13A Providence sweeping through amongst ZAFT's other five hundred Nazca class destroyers and Laurasia class frigates along the Jachin Due space fortress.

The commander was fighting today, he reflected, perhaps his suspicions were just idle speculations. If he was truly a traitor to ZAFT and was on EA's side, then he wouldn't be going out to fight today. But that also didn't make sense, because the commander was a coordinator and would never join the Blue Cosmos.

Growling and shaking his head from the strange thoughts permeating through, he moved out in the stealth mode until he reached the edge of the battle. The units were still fighting, and he saw a CGUE DEEP Arms unit disabling a Strike Dagger instead of destroying it. There wasn't any doubt about who was inside. The other nine such units would have killed the enemy, but Shiho was different.

Then he suddenly spotted a startling red mobile suit moving swiftly from behind him and recognized it immediately as the Justice, then a split-second later, the Freedom had joined it and was covering the Justice's back.

And Yzak's' doubt grew.

The two mobile suits weren't on any side, at least that was clear enough, since the nuclear missiles aimed towards ZAFT legion were intercepted by the Freedom which skillfully forced them to explode entirely before they even reached their targets, and likewise, so did the Justice for the EA fleet.

"What are they doing?" Yzak screamed in confusion and incoherent rage, trying very hard to kept the doubt from swelling everywhere like cancer that spread in his blood. He was right! He hadn't been wrong! He was fighting for peace! They were the ones interrupting it, they didn't know which side they were fighting on because they were traitors and double-crosses, but he, Yzak, he knew where his loyalties lay, and he was going to fight for ZAFT even now, so he was right!

The EA and Blue Cosmos were murderers, they would send nuclear and attack PLANT if he didn't fight, so killing those who were killing those back home was correct, it was justified, he was doing the right thing!

He screamed again in agony and confusion as a well of memories gushed into his cockpit seemed, for the floodgates had been irreparably broken and nothing could withstand the pain and torment Yzak had fooled himself into thinking that he would not feel for his whole life.

There was the ever-present sting of his mother's hand connecting with his cheek. He gave an involuntary wince even though it was allin his mind and he hadn't even winced when he had been slapped when he told his mother he wanted to enlist.

There were Nicol's untouched belongings left in the locker and the piano that nobody touched again and brought forth music. He had wanted to apologise that day, but Nicol had gone and died, leaving him with an unspoken apology that was lost forever.

There he was, he killed those soldiers and he had boasted to Dearka that the Naturals were weak and inferior, they were meant to win and the Naturals were meant to lose. Dearka would tell him jokes about Naturals and Yzak would laugh. But he couldn't laugh when he saw the EA soldiers lined up and shot with their hands tied behind their trembling backs.

And there he was again, he shot down the ship he thought to be containing soldiers when all there had been were civilians and children who didn't understand the first thing about nuclear and wars and held only pieces of lost dreams that he had taken from them too. Shiho had called him a monster, and he was sure she was right.

Then there was the scar across his face. The scar he had chosen to wear.

His heart beating painfully in his chest, Yzak forced open his eyes and hissed, "Focus!"

The nuclear missiles aimed towards the PLANTs were arriving very quickly, and he lifted up the Duel's basic rifle and aimed it steadily at the missiles the screen had calculated, were approaching at a near distance.

But a CGUE unit sprang in front, effectively blocking half the vision from his screen, and he knew immediately that it was Shiho who was piloting the unit. And for one terrible, heart-pounding moment, he thought she was going to die because she was positioned directly in the path of the missile, and his mind screamed for him to move into action but his hands were frozen by the controls.

Then the unit gracefully lifted its own heavy beam cannon the CGUE was typically armed with, and he knew that it had already been supplied with basic ammunition, and he saw something explode in the distance. She had prevented the nuclear attack first, and then a communication path was abruptly forced open to his unit and he heard her voice, somehow monotone and dispassionate but strangely frightened at the same time asking, "Are you fine?"

"Fine, fine," Yzak reassured himself more than Shiho, "I was going to aim for that one, but you got it first."

He heard a brief sigh from the channel and stared at the CGUE in the distance and imagined her slouching slightly in her seat as she breathed in relief, then he heard Shiho saying a bit distractedly, "I know, but I thought for a moment that you had lost your focus and was worried you-,"

"No," he cut in brusquely, "Just focus on the job right now, don't let those missiles bring PLANT down."

"Roger," she replied tightly, and the communication channel was shut down and he saw from his screen that the CGUE had disappeared from the spot it had been positioned in a second ago.

And he really didn't have any time to waste wondering if he was doing the right thing by even being here, Yzak thought furiously, because the Forbidden had probably recharged its ammunition and was being launched from its mother ship, and it was headed right at him.

"Back for more?" he hissed savagely, griping the controls and expertly maneuvering through the chaos and inferno of the battling units while the ZAFT units desperately tried to stop the missile from hitting PLANT. A single one could cause irreparable consequence, and no Coordinator wanted that. The Freedom and Justice were working seamlessly as a team from where Yzak could see from the monitor, no doubt fighting for the same goal, whatever it was.

Gritting his teeth in a very ugly scowl that did no justice to his features, Yzak controlled the mobile suit and slashed through some random missiles that no other unit could stop. Then he remembered that the Forbidden had been sent out and cursed his lack of attention for the powerful unit that he had expected to be coming his way, but apparently was filing to live up to his prediction.

Scanning around urgently, he saw Shiho's unit engaged in a fierce battle with another from EA, one he recognised as the famed 'Sakura Burst', but he was forced to look around some more to detect the Forbidden. He was going to bring it down if it was the last thing he did, he hadn't any time to waste looking out for the others.

Then he spotted the Forbidden moving in an erratic fashion, cutting up and down and dodging imaginary bullets. It was beserk even without provocation.And Yzak said aloud to himself, "They got a bloody looney to pilot it this time."

His careless words struck close to the truth than he knew.

Then the Forbidden stopped its crazy fight with apparently nobody he could see.

"What the hell is that about?" he muttered to himself, and then he realized instantly that the pilot was edging its unit closer and closer to the Strike Rouge where he knew its pilot was from ORB, and obviously part of the Three Ships Alliance. And he had to make a decision there and then.

Either he could wait for the Forbidden to go take down the unit and then he would step in and defeat the Forbidden after it had taken down a member of a faction he wasn't sure was on whose side exactly, or Yzak could intervene before the pilot of the Strike Rouge got killed and beaten pretty badly at bare minimum,. But judging by the way the Forbidden was moving, there's be a dead pilot in the Strike Rouge if Yzak chose not to step in.

Then the Forbidden whipped out its laser and neatly shot a plasma beam towards the Strike Rouge, and Yzak reacted instinctively, no question, no logic to mule about, no thought that he was fraternizing with enemies, nothing whatsoever. He just reacted.

And in an instant, he had pressed a series of keys so swiftly that a while alter, he was still wondering what on earth he had done for the Duel to discard its precious amour encasing the main frame the Assault Shroud provided just for mobility and speed's sake.

In a matter of seconds, Yzak had launched the unit in a deadlock with the Forbidden and sliced into the cockpit with sickening accuracy, and Yzak could almost feel the rebound of the blade that sunk right into the cockpit. He had always preferred hand to hand combat; it was more of his style than shooting bullets and tactics like that. How fitting it was now, he muttered to himself.

The defeated unit was still attached to the end of his blade where he had thrust the blade into the cockpit. That meant certain death for the pilot.

"Don't blame me," he thought grimly, watching part of the defeated unit crackle with energy that had been liberated from the controls of the cockpit, "You asked for it."

A beep from the screen distracted him and he leveled his eyes down and saw the window the Buster had channeled and opened to his unit. All the Le Creuset units had that function, it was only logical to have it being teammates, and then he was seeing Dearka's tanned face and boyish grin after Dearka's initial shock that Yzak was still alive, and in response Yzak smirked back mockingly at his friend, just like the way he had in the old times.

He noted that the Strike Rouge was seemingly immobilized, probably not because the power had run out or anything, he thought dryly, the pilot was probably dumbstruck or something like that.

And Yzak cursed aloud very colorfully and thought to himself in his sudden bewilderment, 'I saved someone from the Three Ships Alliance.'

Then something like a mist lifted from his thoughts and he smirked to himself and moved to fight. Not against anyone really, but fighting this time, with Dearka who had joined his unit by the side now. And form the corner of his screen, he saw the familiar CGUE DEEP Arms moving rapidly and cutting through again in its typical fashion and Yzak allowed himself a crooked smile as the three units faced the battle once more. This time, he would protect the Eternal; he had no obligation left to anything except the duty to fight for peace.

So they were with him again.

And they fought well, but barely a while later, Yzak spotted the Commander's unit, the Providence, and he would have moved to join up, but he was horrified to see the unit destroying more than a quarter of all the units around them in a radius of explosions. ZAFT or not, they were all eliminated in a matter of a few explosions.

"What the hell is going on now?" he heard Dearka's horror-stricken voice through the window and he hissed back, "Do I look like I know?"

But he did. He knew. The traitor wasn't Athrun Zala or Dearka Elseman or anyone, only the person that he, Yzak Joule, had trusted the most.

Rage was building up more rapidly than it ever had in his blood and he saw red at that very point. Yzak Joule had been fooled, but he had allowed himself to be fooled by a person he had respected and trusted with his very life, and that made him now go insane with anger and misplaced trust.

"I'll kill you!" he screamed while ignoring whatever Dearka was shouting at hi from the other end, and then he pressed the controls with all his might to speed and urge the Duel forwards, not caring that the CGUE was becoming more and more distant while the Buster was trying to keep up.

Then Yzak yanked the controls and halted his unit, blocking the path of the Providence, effectively shielding the head ship of the Three Ships Alliance, the Eternal. He was vaguely aware that Dearka had joined him too and was doing the same and they lifted their lazer rifles swiftly and shot repeatedly at the Providence, but it was to no avail.

In a few mere seconds, the Providence had swept past them in a dazzling display of speed and enormous power, and had slashed through both their units even as they tried to intercept Rau Le Creuset, and Dearka was saying in a very strange, slow voice again, "It's no use, we're useless here."

But even though he could hear the note of desperateness in his friend's voice, Yzak wasn't listening. He was screaming in his helpless rage and pressing the controls over and over again, while the energy gathered and sprung in sparks up his hands, signaling the Duel was destroyed beyond repair at this stage. But he didn't care.

"Move!" he shrieked uncontrollably, rattling the controls sand forgetting that the suit was already immobile, "Move!"

"It's over," Dearka was shouting angrily, opening up the communication window which was vibrating in a series of mobile lines, apparently it hadn't been working either, bur that was expected since both their units were as good as goners.

"It's not," he hissed poisonously, but then he looked at Dearka and saw blood trickling steadily down his friend's forehead and the strange dazed look his friend's eyes carried, and he peered to get a better look at the malfunctioning screen and heard his friend say softly with very little energy left, "Let's go."

"Alright," he said very calmly and wearily, watching as the window closed suddenly. The screen was gone too. It was just like the old days, he thought ruefully, he would be angry about something and yelling his head off and Dearka would get him to calm down eventually. This time, it wouldn't have been that way if he hadn't seen the blood staining his friend's forehead and realized that he was injured too when he finally saw the reflection o his own face in the screen.

Yzak cursed and shook his head and blinked painfully a few times to regain his fast disappearing vision. Something was aching horribly and he could smell the sickening rust of his own blood everywhere, but then the pain was coming back multifold and he was numb, and then he slumped forwards and couldn't remember anything as he faded into darkness.

But the last thing Yzak recalled thinking before he lost consciousness was that he was going to force himself to stay alive to watch someone else bring the true enemy to justice.

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Author's note: I'd like to give a BIG thank-you to Athyra who filled me in on the nitty-gritty of the Jachin Due Battle and was very nice to help me with this chapter. For those of you who have realized this chapter is exceptionally long, don't panic. I hope all readers especially Athyra liked this chapter. In case you haven't realized it, this is an ending of the first arc of Believing. The second will start with chapter12, and I hope you'll enjoy whatever that's coming up. 


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD.Please R&R!

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Chapter 12 

"You're awake," she was stating mutely, not looking at him but her violet eyes flickered over his forehead where he knew there was a bandage there even though his body was so numb, he felt disjointed from his very limbs.

Yzak stared at her, and then he rasped, his voice rough from the lack of use, "I've been awake for an hour and waiting for someone to come here."

"You could have called for someone if you needed anything," she retorted unapologetically, but he saw that the edge in Shiho's eyes had disappeared and had been replaced by something that looked like pity. He hated it immediately and his features contorted into a pained, grim sneer.

"I suppose we didn't lose," he began sarcastically, his vision passing over at the tubes that were wielded to his arms by needles that sickened him even though the pain wasn't something he couldn't handle.

Shiho made no comment, but her eyes hardened into shards of amethyst and her countenance was abruptly made stony. And Yzak glared at her, cursing her lack of response, then he pressed on determinedly. He wished she would just fight back and then his mind would be free of thought and he could spar verbally with her and not be left alone to his thoughts at all.

"So the bastard didn't kill us and the world wasn't exterminated, obviously," he taunted, undaunted by her reaction, or lack of thereof to his words, "So we're on the Gondwana and one of the many who were saved by the Freedom or the Justice I presume."

"Both," she interrupted swiftly, pulling a chair from somewhere and sitting in it, and he noted that Shiho's eyes were keen and sharp but her face was tired and her posture was fighting to be upright although she looked like she wanted to slump backwards in exhaustion.

"What have you been doing?" he said critically and very unsympathetically, noting that her injuries were merely scratches, and there was one across her cheek, making her look like a weathered warrior which in reality, he thought dryly, she probably was. That was the fate of those who survived battles, not to mention the one battle that had ended all other battles, Jachin Due.

"You took of without me," Shiho said very suddenly, and he realised that suddenly, her voice had an accusatory note, "And Dearka followed and I was left to fend off some EA units and then you got yourself injured with him. I suppose you're feeling insulted the commander didn't bother with either of you and went straight for the Freedom."

"Don't call him the commander," he hissed through his gritted teeth, "And I took of without either if you because I wasn't thinking straight."

"Were you even thinking?" she suddenly shouted furiously, standing up so forcefully and so abruptly that the chair she had been sitting in a second ago had fallen onto the floor with a resounding, unapologetic crash.

Yzak was startled at very least; he had suspected that her temper wasn't the kind that was fair although she was generally calm and placid. But this was an outward show that she had a fire he hadn't known could be directed to anyone, least of all him.

But he was too far caring, he wanted to provoke her for his own sake, and he persisted and hissed back, "Don't press your luck with me Hahenfuss. It's your own business you couldn't keep up and it's not your business what I chose to do at that point in time. In that situation, what we did was left up to us, there wasn't anyone to give us orders anymore and I did whatever I had to do."

"That's what you think," Shiho replied, superbly disdainful and her eyes were cold, "You have no consideration whatsoever for any of us, comrades or best friend, and you can go boil your head for all I care. The war's over, in case you haven't figure that out, and they're forming a treaty even as we speak. Whatever you do after this is your own business as you said. I'm leaving."

She turned, prepared to swing around and leave as she had said she would do and had meant to do, but he surprised himself by reaching for her hand, ignoring that some of the tubes had been snapped when he had reached for Shiho's hand, and he said ashamedly because he knew he was on the verge of pleading, and he muttered, "Stay."

And Shiho turned back slowly, hesitantly and her eyes were filled with anger and pain.

"I know what you're trying to do," she stated quietly, "You're taking out the blame on yourself for trusting a person you shouldn't have trusted for so long. I know that. But you should stop it, and stop it now, because you'll hurt yourself."

'And me', she added silently.

Yzak made no reply to this, his eyes weren't meeting hers and he gripped pathetically to her arm while he remained seated upright in the bed with bandages wrapped around half his bare torso. But a minute later, she had slid onto the bed and was taking his hand in hers, and then he looked at her and saw that her eyes were closed tightly but tears were already sliding out, raw and salty but each drop precious.

Shiho Hahenfuss didn't cry much, because she was too weather-worn and strong-willed for that and also due to the fact that she had been given enough time to perfect a stony countenance where tears were weakness and weakness was simply not acceptable. But now the tears fell softly, silently but she didn't sob aloud. There were only certain allowances that she could make, and even crying hadn't been her decision.

The carnage and horrific aftermath was visible from the windows on the ship, and she had been terrified when she had gotten over to the oath of destruction the Providence had left, and she had seen the two mutilated mobile weapons destroyed beyond hopes of functioning.

At that point, Shiho had thought that it was over but the Freedom had already engaged the Providence in battle, thankfully a distance from where she was, and she had reacted very quickly, her panic becoming more of a help than hindrance because her senses were more acute than ever and her reactions swifter than they would have been in normal circumstances.

Shiho had lasered the cockpit of the Buster open, cutting the hatchet opened where it had been practically melted in a heap to the main body, and then she had found Dearka inside and shaken him and crying his name over and over again until he had awoken. He had been injured considerably and she had been forced to hold down the bile at the blood clots over the side of his face, but then she had been convinced that he had been capable of returning to the Archangel on his own.

"Don't you want to go back to ZAFT?" she had asked Dearka desperately, but he had grinned and scoffed at her concern for him, albeit weakly, and then he had thanked her in his own way by offering very simply, "I don't belong there, at least, not for now."

Then she had been left alone again and had moved to the Duel where she dreaded opening the hatch of the cockpit just in case he wasn't alive. And for a sickening moment, Shiho had realised that if he died, she died with him too.

He had been lying in a lifeless heap, still fastened securely with the belts, and she had cut them opened with a knife because everything was malfunctioning in the cockpit and generally, the entire mobile weapon. Then she had pulled him along with her, thanking the lack of gravity spaced granted to them, and she had put him in the CGUE with her because nothing in the Duel had been functioning.

And she had been so desperate to find something, anything, that would shelter both of them from the terrible explosions in the darkness of space around them and the scrap metal and dead bodies had frightened her when Shiho realised that nobody around them in a two metre radius was alive and there were only corpses and carnage to seek help from.

In previous minor battles, it had been different, her comrades were always there to keep in contact and the instructions always came in a steady stream, fast and furious but precise and clear without a need for questions. She hadn't killed anyone or intended to before, and if she had accidentally done so,that wasn't because she had wanted to kill, but because she hadn't been able to defeat the opponent by merely disabling it. Contrary to popular belief, it was infinitely more difficult to defeat an enemy without killing him, but she had tried so hard to, so hard. Most of the time in battles anyway, she had been there to be a carrier for the frontline soldiers by providing ammunition and restocking supplies as swiftly as she could during battles itself. And now, there was nobody left to tell her what to do and she had despaired of finding a ZAFT ship that could take the injured Yzak in and tend his wounds quickly.

But his body, still faintly warm and his chest, still rising slightly as he breathed painfully, had forced her to swallow and go on, and then she had located the mother ship, and she had gotten both of them there and allowed the medics to pull him away from her aching shoulders and pushed her to the infirmary while they carried him off.

An hour later, they sent someone to tell her that the battle was over and they wouldn't be recalled onto the battlefield, even while a rescue team was going around fetching stranded soldiers and a separate team was repacking the pieces of mobile weapons to send back for intensive repair if it was possible to. Shiho had gazed out of the viewing plane and had seen one she recognised as the Duel.

And she had been terribly grateful they couldn't and would not send them out there anymore because she couldn't afford to lose him. It was more than a matter of care, it was a matter of self-preservation because she knew she needed him more than Yzak Joule realised she did.

"You shouldn't have said what you did," she said softly, speaking very clearly even though her voice was threatening to tremble and marr with the tears that were still wetting her ceeks.

She didn't want to open her eyes and at the back of her mind, she felt like an ostrich, the giant bird that kid ts head in the sand and assumed those around it woudlnt' see it since it couflnt' see the rest. She coudlnt' bear to look at him, and she couldn't bear him seeing her like this either, weak and defeated.

"I shouldn't hace" he agreed quietly, no more bitteness in his voice, only a weary note of regret, "I apologise."

"What are you going to do now?" Shiho asked haplessly, still not opening her eyes, "Will you quit ZAFT and leave?"

"I don't know," Yzak replied honestly, his blue eyes darkening, "I don't know."

They were silent for a while, pathetic in their pain, lost in the fire of the war, made to live the way an adult did before their childhood had even ran its course or finished its lease, and now they sat on the same bed, and hope existed even admist the irreparable glass pieces the war had gven rise to.

"I'm a war criminal," he said suddenly without any prompt from Shiho at all, "I will be tried and found guilty very soon."

Her head snapped up, and Shiho's eyes were large and very wide as she cried, her voice pitch brought up a few notches from what it had previously been, "No! You're lying! There's no such thing, nto when our own leader betryed us and led us to commit those cimes!"

"You didn't commit any wrong,"he reminded her gently, "And don't say 'we',say 'you'. And he died didn't he? I have no more evidence nor a witness to fight for me, all the comrades' words will not be taken to heed in the court as you know they won't be. But if you want," he added half-jokingly, half-cynically, "You can attend at court. I'll recgonise you without a doubt, I might even have the gall to wave at you on that day itself."

"Don't mess around with me," she snapped angrily, losing her cool for the second time that day, "I won't let you be sentenced to death because of the crimes you were forced to commit against your own free will."

He stared at her, and he cursed the way Shiho Hahenfuss had such an effect on him that Yzak Joule's heart could actually feel peace and hope. Damn her. Double damn her, he hated her fir the influence she wielded over him.

"You don't understand," he said wearily, "I wasn't forced to commit those crimes."

Shiho was shaking her head, and his eyes followed the strands of dark hair that had came lose and were pressed over her determined features and how beautiful she was without her realising it.

"You were," she insisted again, but her eyes held doubt and some fear, "The commander fooled all of us into thinking that we had to kill innocents to end this war, which was what all of us wanted, wasn't it?"

"Stop,' he commanded harshly, pulling her closer to him and taking her face in her hands so that she was looking at and only at him.

"Listen to me," Yzak ordered angrily, hating himself terribly and hating her, "I liked killing, I lived for it, I dreamt of it and I wanted to kill. Did you hear me? I liked killing, I wanted to kill, and it wasn't anyone's fault, it was my own responsibility to bear, and I will die for the crimes I ought to die for. I am a murdered, do you hear me Hahenfuss? I am a murderer."

Her eyes were horrified, her lips parted in terror, and he let go, slowly, of her and leaned back against the bed's headboard and closed his eyes briefly, fighting the pain that threatened to consume his being in its entirety.

There, he had done it. Now she wouldn't' get involved with him anymore and she'd live her life, still innocent and unmarred before the war, and he would be damned for eternity as long as she didn't follow him to his death and foolishly trying to fight for him. Shiho Hahenfuss was the only member of the Hahenfuss House left, she had a fortune waiting for her to ensure her survival and provide more than she could every imagine in her lifetime, and then they'd go their separate ways like he had always meant to make them do.

And when Yzak opened his eyes again, she was gone.

The next few days were complete chaos. He was recovering well and there was no doubt about it especially since Dearka had arrived to meet him, bringing Mirallia Haww along with Kira Yamato and Lacus Clyne to visit him. And he had seen Kira Yamato, a young boy of a surprisingly slight build with brown hair, younger than Yzak actually, and he could see very clearly that Kira Yamato's eyes were dulled from pain and fighting and his youth damaged by the blood on his hands. But Yzak knew there was hope for him; he knew it the instant when Lacus Clyne came and stood by Kira Yamato's side in silence but with a peaceful expression on her angelic face.

If she was there, he decided for himself, and then the pilot of the Freedom would live and be fine.

And he met Cagalli Yula Atha, who turned out to be the pilot of the Strike Rouge he had saved quite instinctively without meaning really to. She was a very striking girl, blonde hair and amber eyes with the kind of fierce pride and intensity that made him look at her with some unwilling respect even when she was pretty much a stranger and did not speak much to anyone on board the ship, least of all him.

Their encounter had been by chance actually, when he had passed a corner and thought he saw Athrun Zala leading someone and saw that it was Cagalli Yula Atha, the last member of the Atha House. He could tell that she was somewhat of a tomboy, her actions were confident and her speech clear and natural, and if he had been bothered to take a closer look, he would have realised that she was more beautiful than he had thought she was.

Athrun Zala had presumably told her about her encounter with the Duel, for she had suddenly tugged on his friend's arms and exclaimed, "That's Yzak Joule isn't it?"

She had moved very swiftly over to him and shook his hand silently, offering him a smile, and he knew why Athrun Zala was so strangely protective over her when all he had done in the past was keep to himself and be passive to most of those around him.

The news came that Ezalia Joule had been placed under house arrest for being the most avid supporter of the former chairman even while she had been an advocate of his belief and views in genocide and she had indirectly encouraged the anit-Natural feelings to grow amongst PLANT civilians.

Before the battle of Jachin Due had started, she had managed to steal away from her bodyguards and her several assistants and had moved startlingly close to him.

Yzak hadn't shied away from her then, but he had seen her up-close for the first time in ages, and he saw that she was still very stunning but her lips were made rosy only by the red colour she had used to mask the pale colour they had been reduced to.

"I will arrange to have you put in somewhere in the back when the war starts," she had promised, and her hand had been soft against his cheek and her blue eyes pained and suspiciously glimmering with fear and anxiousness.

That had been what she said, but he had made sure that behind the scenes, her orders would never reach a place where they could possibly take effect. Now she was a prisoner in her own house with nobody she could depend on, not even the servants, but she had never depended on them anyway, not for what she was always yearning and searching for but could never find and obtain.

And Yzak was filled with a rage for everything and anything that he could not give her what she was searching to find either when he was the only one who truly loved her, because she had lost what she was continually looking for a very long time ago when his father had died before he had even been born.

But he imagined her sitting by the window in her room and gazing for as long as she wanted at the photograph he had never been allowed to see, and Yzak knew that she would never be called to fight anymore and she wouldn't have to hate anymore, and she had a chance to have peace for herself because she was removed from the very things she wanted to destory and would destroy her in turn.

Ezalia Joule would be isolated from a world she had learnt to despise and a world she had lost trust in a very long time ago.

And somewhere, deep somewhere where he had thought was incapable of feeling ever again, a part of him rejoiced.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD. PleaseR&R!

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Chapter 13

Ezalia Joule looked at her son, trying to mute the gush of pain that flowed through her as sharply as the long, jagged scar that marked his handsome face with its deadly, sharp features. And she drank a bit of the tea in the fine porcelain teacup, but she ignored the smooth, pleasing texture of the cup as she set it down gracefully, her long, slim, ivory fingers trailing unhesitant across the handle and settling to rest by the side.

"I won't do it," Yzak said very fiercely, glaring at the person he had never dreamt of being disrespectful to in his whole life. But now, it was a completely different scenario. He didn't care if he was being rude, he would have his way and the rest of the world could screw itself for all he cared.

Ezalia stared at him and forced a smile. Yzak had came back from ZAFT to her, finally to her, and yet, he had been lost somewhere in the blood of the battles and the chaos of the fields where the fighting had been at its fiercest. He was still headstrong and quite stubborn, that anyone, let alone her, could see, but there was a matured air about him that she half wished he hadn't obtained or developed through the war to know the ways of the world in its most horrific and obscene nature.

"Drink your tea," she said calmly, and her blue eyes stared unflinchingly into the very same pair he had inherited from her. She had once hoped they would be honey-brown, but then the baby had opened its eyes, bawling terribly, and she had seen with some despair that they were a startling, ocean-blue like her own, and she had wept a little when nobody had been around.

He didn't, and he glowered furiously at her, but then something shifted in his eyes and he said very coldly, "Isn't it enough that you're a prisoner in your own house?"

And she would have gotten up and slapped him across his face with all the might that she could have mustered there and then, but the scar deterred her from doing so. She had no right to wound him any more then he already was, as she forced herself to lift the cup gently once more and drain the liquid that eased down her throat like liquid fire in a sip or two.

"Don't speak like that," Ezalia warned, and without meaning to, she placed the saucer down with more force than she had intended to, and the unruly sound it made only frustrated her more. But she ignored it and faced him squarely once more, and in the back of the mind, she wondered briefly when it had been that he had grown so tall and so achingly fine. He would be a proud man soon, granted that he had been considered an adult when he had passed his thirteen birthday, but then Yzak Joule had lost some of his irrational temper after she had seen him again, and with a little more time, the world would take him and perfect him into a rock with slightly smoother edges.

"I apologise," he said stiffly, sitting as upright as he did when he had been asked to join her for tea. They were like strangers after he had came home, but then, she thought sadly, hadn't they always been almost strangers?

Once, on his thirteenth birthday, she had been prepared to buy a cake for him, complete with candles and a lighter to celebrate his birthday properly for the first time after he had passed his fifth birthday, but then she had gotten home, late in the evening, and found him practising his archery. When she had moved up to him while he was markedly concentrating, he had requested that she leave him alone to practise first, and then Ezalia Joule knew that he had forgotten when his birthday was after people, including her, had ceased to celebrate it since he was five. And the cake she held securely in a box, hidden from his eyes, it was given to the first maid she saw who came in to attend to her. The maid had probably shared it with the others, and the candles? She threw them away.

And he never knew that she had meant to celebrate his coming of age when he had been thirteen either.

"Don't tell me you're sorry," she replied softly, thinking to herself, 'I should be the one saying that,' but her voice hardened and Ezalia continued, "Just agree to my proposal."

"You know I can't do it!" he cried in frustration, "I can't go and replace you as a member of the Supreme Council just like that!"

"Listen," Ezalia interrupted urgently, "I know it sounds absurd that someone your age is in the Supreme Council, especially since you just came back from the war and there are- are matters to clear up before you can leave the house with your head held high. I know these matters will be declared in no time at all, once we get acceptable witnesses who fit the criteria, your name will be cleared and you will take my place in the Supreme Council."

Her son was silent, not an ugly, sullen silence, but a morose, terribly ominous one, and when he finally spoke, she realised that his voice was steady but underneath the surface there was a tremor.

"Did it ever occur to you that I killed the civilians in a single fit of rage?" he asked softly, his voice laced with some pain that she tried hard to identify but could not.

"There were soldiers trying to escape on the ship, weren't there?" she almost pleaded, her heart pounding faster than she ever thought it was possible for it to, "And doesn't that justify the- the thing that y-you did?"

She had wanted to say monstrosity, but she couldn't bear to, he was her son for God's sake!

"That's what you think," he cut in wearily, "The only soldiers on board the ship were the ones piloting it for the sake of the civilians, and the two soldiers had left the service a month ago, technically making them civilians. And that proves that I am guilty of a war crime; code D692-3, Section 12 of Clause 2. No soldier shall attempt to murder civilians uninvolved in war on enemy lines, and the sentence for the guilty is death until proven innocent."

"I've hired the best lawyers around," Ezalia cried angrily, quite forgetting she was supposed to appear cool and calm for his sake more than hers, "And I thought that they could find a way out of his mess with just their help alone, but from the way things are progressing, it seems to me that the current council will want every single war crime to come out in the open so that the blame of the war will go on those who were fighting to stop it in the first place! The bastards sitting in the chambers writing laws in the legislative council will reveal every single wrongdoing without first telling the world that they were the ones who allowed Rau Le Creuset to commit the largest crime of all!"

"And if I don't take measures to move into the council as what they are requesting me to do now, I have lesser chances of getting off with my head still attached t these shoulders, that is your point," he said very tightly, an obvious thread of cynic in his sonorous voice.

"You sound disbelieving of the fact that they want my son to be my replacement," Ezalia spoke, her eyes sharp and calculating. She had regained her composure, he thought ruefully, and that made her a dangerous person to do business with. But he knew something was up his mother's sleeve, because a desperate Ezalia was an Ezalia with nothing to lose, and that in itself, served as a warning.

"It's ridiculous," he said sharply, looking straight at her in her beautiful face, "I'm not trained in politics, and I've been a soldier for four years of my life. I'm not exactly a diplomat either, you know it jolly well, and you can't count on me to save lives and be an advocate of peaceful relations even though I now believe that is the sole way to surviving."

"They unanimously think you're more than qualified and able to match up to the task," Ezalia said curtly, looking past him, "Eileen Canaver needs all the help she can gather right now, and it will only be a temporary replacement until the aftermath is clearer. You were the top of the academy, and you're the only one who is here in PLANT now. Athrun Zala's out of the question, his father caused too much trouble for his son to be welcomed as of yet, and in either case, he went missing after the battle at Jachin Due, didn't he? And you know helping them now will improve the chances of you being let off when the time comes. And both of us know that the time will come very soon."

"I know," he gritted angrily, "But I don't see why the Lady of the Hahenfuss House must be thrown into this."

"She doesn't know she's included in this web, not in the very least," Ezalia replied coldly, "But I will bring her in further if you fail to do as what is deemed the best possible option in this damned situation."

"Is that a threat?" he cut in, his eyes like slits of stormy blue and his fists clenched below the table.

"It isn't," she responded in a composed manner that made him want to kill something, "But it stands as a possible option that I might have to use Shiho Hahenfuss as an incentive to make you wake up and save yourself. You know she relies on us without her even knowing it. Her father was smarter than any of us had thought, and now that you know he was clever enough to make preparations for her to survive with the Joule House's help, you now bear the burden that Shiho Hahenfuss will be used as a pawn if necessary. Of course, that depends entirely on you."

"You're forcing me to deal in matters I want to wash my hands entirely off," Yzak cut in with poison drenching his voice entirely, "I made my mistakes, and you-,"

But he caught himself in time. Yet, her eyes grew wary and then he knew that she had realised what he had been almost about to say because of one slip of his wretched tongue.

'Go on, say it," she ordered, and he knew better than to get cold feet at this stage and defy his mother. Yzak had loved her all his life, but now he loved her and felt fear at the same time, and in itself, it left a bitter taste in his mouth with the queer combinations of emotions and pity for a shell of a young woman, torn away from her innocence and believe in the world and left to live with a son she had created out of bare necessity. It hadn't even been love, it had been just to find anything to keep her alive and to motivate her to stay in a world that neither loved her nor saw a need for her existence.

"I said," He hissed, "I'm not the only one who made mistakes in this war. You made far more than me."

She made no reaction but her eyes grew cold and her lips pressed into a thin, fiorm line. Yzak could have sworn that something crumbled in her face, but a second later, he saw nothing, and he was undeterred and pressed on.

"You supported a genocides and a radical like Patrick Zala even when you knew he hadn't been in his right mind for more than a year," he said very accusingly, and to her, he might as well have been pointing his finger at her and screaming horrible things, "You were an advocate of the war, and in doing that, you killed more than I ever did."

And this time, she got up fluidly and in one single cry, she slapped him across his face and he stood up, jamming the chair somewhere behind him, and he said in a terrible, mocking sort of laughter, "I'm your son."

Her hand, poised to hit him once more, was left frozen in a monumental state in the air, and Ezalia lowered it slowly and saw that there were tears in Yzak's blue eyes, and in an instant, she regretted what she had done immensely and terribly.

And she could have chosen to leave because she knew Yzak would forgive her, but then Ezalia knew that he would never forget the pain of the stinging blow she had placed on his pale cheek, and then in a single instant, she had throw her arms around her son and sobbed.

She hadn't cried for a very, very long time.

And neither had he.

By the time evening came, their cheeks were dry and he was resting against her the way he should have been allowed to do as a child. And they decided in that hour, that Yzak Joule, the Lord of the House, would replace Ezalia Joule as a member of the PLANT Supreme Council.

Not for his mother's sake, nor for his, because Yzak Joule had passed the point of caring about what happened to him. But there was one thing he couldn't let go of entirely, and that was the last member of the Hahenfuss House.

Ezalia Joule had told him that Steiner Hahenfuss had struck a deal with her when Yzak had been eight, and at that time, only Steiner Hahenfuss had known he would never recover from his cancer.

In exchange for the standing and influence the once military family of Hahenfuss held in PLANT at the present, Shiho Hahenfuss would be considered a relation of the Joule House, and that would be upheld even before the engagement was announced and after the marriage took place. It had been clever really, because in doing so, Ezalia would have gained an honoury member who held influence in PLANT, and Steiner Hahenfuss would gain lasting protection of his daughter long after he had died. After he died, the Hahenfuss House were rarely heard of again, Ezalia thought ruefully, and Steiner Hahenfuss had gotten a bargain by not fulfilling his words but making Ezalia Joule keep her promise that Shiho Hahenfuss would be well cared for even after Steiner Hahenfuss had passed away.

That was assuming, of course, that Ezalia Joule didn't back off and retract her words after Steiner Hahenfuss died, which of course, he eventually did.

But unbeknownst to anyone, even if Steiner Hahenfuss had asked her to look after his daughter after he died without cheating and driving a hard bargain, Ezalia Joule wouldn't have minded being saddled with a girl like Shiho Hahenfuss and being fooled to a certain extent with a one-sided deal.

Eleven years ago, a pair of beautiful violet eyes gazing at her and a young, dark-haired child taking her hand and saying very softly, almost lost to the wind but caught by Ezalia's ears, "My mother was like you, she didn't say very much."

Ezalia would never forget who Shiho Hahenfuss was, even when the five-year old had been melancholy in her beauty that a child ought not to have possessed. But Shiho Hahenfuss was a queer girl, full of extraordinary ideas and a free spirit Ezalia envied somehow, and whether the girl married her son eventually wouldn't matter then.

When Shiho had returned to Aprilius after her father had finally passed away after his long years of suffering and torment, she had offered the girl a standing in the Joule House by agreeing to fulfil the terms her father had set. If her father had still been alive, there would have been no room for argument whatsoever, but now that the leader of the Hahenfuss was Shiho herself, it made things more than a little complicated.

And the girl had refused and declared that she didn't need the Joule House's help, but Ezalia had waited until she left and laughed until tears had sprung into her eyes. The girl had been very innocent and pure even in the obvious pain that threatened to take a hold of her, and she had left wounded without realising that she would still be allowed to survive without her agreeing to take the offer Ezalia had given her.

When Shiho Hahenfuss had left for ZAFT, Ezalia had despaired for a while, but it faded quickly because she had gotten used to the pain of someone leaving. First him, then their son, now another. It was just one on top of the other, what difference did it make in the end?

"Check and give me the Lady of the Hahenfuss House's whereabouts," she ordered to the butler once Yzak was out of earshot.

"As you wish," the butler replied, how trusty he was all these years, he gave her information she had ordered straightaway, and he never opened his mouth and let on what he knew.

And she gazed over the file and a sigh escaped her lips.

Shiho Hahenfuss had been promoted to the rank of Major in ZAFT as a redcoat, and she had confirmed her contract would hold for another two years such that she would serve there. And more importantly, Ezalia noted with some interest, she was more beautiful and striking than ever, and Shiho Hahenfuss had recently turned seventeen, a year short of the legal age for marriage in PLANT.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD. Please R&R!

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Chapter 14

A month had passed, then another, and then a day since then. And Yzak Joule sat in his temporary office, trying not to lose his temper and shred the papers that he had been reading for three times now. It made no sense to him, not because the language was complex or anything, in any case, he had a degree in linguistics, but his lack of concentration was the one that was overtly to be blamed.

He squinted at it and rubbed his eyes briefly; marvelling at the flawless skin that stretched over his face and how the callous scar had been vanished to leave no indication of his stint in the war and the hatred he had felt. And suddenly, his spirits were rejuvenated and a tiny smile tugged at the corners of his lips, he would prove them all wrong in showing that he wasn't useless after all. And more importantly, or rather, most importantly, he'd show Shiho Hahenfuss that he was absolutely fine with or without her.

She was still in ZAFT, he reflected dispassionately, Dearka had mentioned it somehow or another without Yzak asking, and that itself was normal because Dearka chatted about everything under the sun, and yet it was suspicious because the topic itself was too close for comfort. But Yzak was terribly convinced and rooted in the belief that his friend knew nothing about how close Yzak had been to becoming too attached to Shiho Hahenfuss in the turmoil and chaos of the terrible war for either of their own good.

Yzak looked at his reflection and gave up trying not to sigh. He indulged himself with a bit of a yawn after that and stared at himself quite gloomily. Slaving like a bull hadn't been his forte; he preferred hard and fast work, not hard and slow work. The latter was entirely too laborious for his liking, and suddenly, he wished he could go somewhere, a place where nobody would find him and haul him out like a young boy the way his teacher had once done after finding out that Yzak was the culprit for the glue on the seat of some other child who had had the gall to insult him.

It was easy to put Shiho Hahenfuss out of his mind, because he had decided a long time ago that she was something left better unmarred by him, something pure and clean and good, and something he would rather protect by leaving alone than something charred and destroyed for his sake. She had gone to him not for love's sake or even attraction; it had simply been a want for comfort in the war. And he had accepted it then, but now he realised that he had grown selfish and greedy and wanted more than the role of a substitute. And when she hadn't been able or even allowed to give him that, he had chosen to leave. Perhaps he would regret it one day, but for now, it had been easier than living in fear that she would leave him first.

"Nicol Amalfi,"he muttered beneath his breath, his heartbeat painfully slow and measured, "You died without even knowing that she lost her heart to you."

She had told him once, so monotonously and dispassionately that he had to strain to digest what she said. Shiho had repeated herself back then in a tone no more pleasing nor with any more emotion than anything that she had before, "I don't love Nicol any more than as a friend would."

But he had cut her off and scorned her, taunting, "I won't leave just yet, there's no need for insurance for the present."

She would have continued, but he knew that she was there only for the comfort and he placed his arms securely around her back and drew her in to him and she was silent. He had been thankful then even in the midst of the war and the red, stiff material they both wore that pressed painfully against them as she returned his forceful embrace, because if she had spoken, he may not have been willing or able to bear the pain. But she didn't speak and he never got to find out what she might have said either.

And all that was in the past, he thought ruefully, nothing less, nothing more.

Eileen Canaver would be stepping down from her position as chairman in a week's time to make way for Gilbert Dullindal, and Yzak was secretly thankful to her for pputting so much at stake for PLANT when there was so little left to work with.

His mother never got along exceptionally well with her, she had once described Eileen Canaver as a morning glory, young and naïve, good intentions yes, but too reliant on Siegel Clyne's hopes on the future and the dreams she had put her life into. But Yzak knew that wasn't quite the case although there were grains of truth embedded in them, Ezalia simply envied the woman's love and zest for life and Yzak was well aware of that even when his own mother wasn't.

His trial would be held a day from now, and Yzak had already memorised all the answers he would be giving barely twenty-four hours from now. His mother, still confined to her home, had sent for the best lawyers around and personally selected one to be his defence attorney. And yet, the government had refuted it and made it a law for him to answer every question fielded at him with nobody but himself to prove that he was either innocent or guilty.

But Yzak Joule wasn't the only one under the heavy crossfire, in fact, he was just a single one that nobody took extreme or particular notice of. The war had bred so much filth and malice that those who had sinned were facing trials even as he sat in a comfortable chair and worked in an office for the very organisation that would prosecute him tomorrow.

When it was time to leave, he stood up, collected his things and swept them a bit haphazardly into his case and straightened his collar, no longer red, but teal, as it was customary of the Council's members. His mother had told him quietly, but proudly, that he was a fine man in it, and he had been secretly pleased.

As he moved by the corridors, surrounded by an entourage of other council members he had made an effort to be cordial or civil to for his mother's sake if not his own, he noticed Lacus Clyne standing nearby, quite conspicuous because of her hair colour, and speaking to someone he immediately recognised as Andrew Bartfield. He had clashed more than once with Andrew Bartfield, regardless of age or experience on the battlefield to say the least, but that had been in the past, and Andrew Bartfield spotted him and waved cheerily.

Out of courtesy and quite haplessly, he gave a wave in return, and Lacus Clyne turned around, spotting him too, and she smiled, an innocent smile, full of joy and delicate beauty, and he remembered the way Kira Yamato had looked at her. He smiled in return and moved off, recalling the conversation he had had with the others before time had passed as quickly as a cloud being displaced by the wind's hand.

They had been wearing their pilot uniforms, that at least he remembered, and Athrun Zala had been holding Cagalli Yula Atha's hand very firmly in his own. Dearka had had his head bandaged by a girl Yzak didn't recognise, a sprightly brunette with very lively eyes and it was obvious that his friend had been taken awfully badly by the girl.

"Where will you go now?" he had asked Athrun brusquely, and he had sighed a bit and replied softly, "ORB, I want to get away from PLANT for awhile and start afresh."

He had offered his hand to Yzak this time, who took it, the customary scowl now mixed with a bit of a rueful grin and shaken it very firmly. Cagalli Yula Atha had smiled at him, that he could remembered well because her smile was startling and very warm, and she had been like the sun with her mane of blonde hair and bright amber eyes and features. Perhaps she had influenced his friend more than he had thought, but Yzak would never know the extent of her will over Athrun Zala's until a few years had passed, and for now, he could only remember Cagalli Yula Atha but took very little notice of her.

And Athrun Zala had disappeared soon after that and Yzak still didn't know where he was in ORB. Dearka had gone back to ZAFT and had been demoted after his trial, but Yzak knew he didn't mind very much, not when he had a new girlfriend and a lot more chance to slack off while on duty since he had fewer obligations as a non-red-coat.

Shaking his head slightly, he moved on until he was out of the extensive building and council grounds. The sky was reddening like the glow of a cigarette, not that he smoked, he thoroughly disapproved of it even when a soldier had introduced it to him once and the risk of being addicted to it very high. He just didn't like the heaviness and tiredness that hung and clung stubbornly onto him after each puff, and he had ditched it quite easily, much to the amazement of the others. He valued his lungs more than them, he supposed, especially since he had been more keen to go out and kill more than laze around puffing at a cigarette they smuggled in now and then, but that had been in the past too. But now, he still couldn't bear the smell and the stench of the smoke.

It was then that he noticed her, standing quite forlornly at the road junction in a faded blue shirt that had been well-worn. He would have recognised a redcoat anywhere with the blood colour of the uniform she had rolled down and secured by tying the sleeves around the waist and the blue shirt she wore underneath. But then, he would have recognised Shiho Hahenfuss anywhere. She held bag after bag in her hands and some in her arms, bulky carriers filled to the brim with package after package, and he stared in wonder at the steadiness she held onto her load as a beast of burden would. He might have chosen to ignore her and move on, but he found himself striding up to her and clearing his throat a little awkwardly so that her attention was drawn to him and she slowly turned around.

And then she saw him and although it was only a split-second of change, her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly.

"What are you doing," he said, but it wasn't unkind.

She looked at him mutely for a few more seconds and when he got impatient and glared, Shiho tilted her head slightly and answered hesitantly, "Holding things-"

"I can see that," he growled impatiently, "Must I spell everything out for you?"

"-for those back at the camp" she continued smoothly as if she hadn't heard him or even witnessed the impatience he thought he had lost but apparently still possessed in significant amounts such that Shiho Hahenfuss would have incurred a little of his wrath.

"I'll give you a lift," he stated in a non-negotiable sort of way, plucking some bags out of her motionless hands that were positioned to hold everything, "And then you wn't have to cross those roads."

Shiho might have protested, but the noise and the bustle everywhere silenced her effectively and she trudged after him, her hair swinging loosely behind her, long and untied, and dark strands blew into her face, making her seem more melancholic than ever.

He tried to ignore the pang that brushed through him because she hadn't had much of the reaction that might have made him feel as if she wanted to remember anything at all. But if Shiho Hahenfuss, the one that he recalled, had jumped into his arms and declared that she loved him and nobody else, he might have questioned who the impostor really was and what she was doing going around as Shiho Hahenfuss.

"Shut up," he muttered furiously, trying to cancel all the thoughts as he got into the car and placed everything in the seat behind. She got in too without a single word even when she had heard him talk to himself, and he marvelled at her ability to stay so single-minded and mechanical in a situation as awkward as this. And suddenly, he was very bitter, because the situation would have been awkward only to a person who cared about the matter at all, and to another who had absolutely no inclination to care, it would have been made as simple as a ride back to the camp and nothing else.

And the realisation of that would have been enough to shut him up but Yzak was terribly curious about everything and couldn't help blurting out, "What's with everything that you went to buy?"

"Spare parts we couldn't get," She replied evenly, "And dinner."

"So you still stay in the barracks," he concluded softly, keeping his eyes on the traffic, and she made no reply but the air around her was tense.

"Your trial's tomorrow," she stated shortly, her eyes focussed on the dashboard and the bags in her lap, "I wish you the best."

"This isn't an examination," he reminded her a little more breezily than he felt, "Iv don't know how it'll go but we'll see how. I know some have been sentenced to death, some have been proven innocent and gotten off scot-free, I don't know how it'll go."

She was silent, thankfully, and he saw a bookmark poking out of the seat's edge where Dearka had flippantly passed it to him after getting it from somewhere. Yzak had been miffed that Dearka would have handed him all his rubbish like he had a royal duty to go clear it for his friend, but he had taken the book and shoved it somewhere, and it's pink ribbon was hanging out limply and very pathetically.

There was a relight, and he pressed the bakes impatiently. The evening traffic was enough to make anyone go mad, and there were horns blasting rudely through the air. Shaking his head a little, he hoisted the bookmark out of the edge with two fingers and passed it to her, saying distractedly, "Help me get rid of this when you're at the camp. Or better yet, pass it to Dearka, no chuck it at his head and say it's fromYzak Joule with much love."

"Alright," she replied stoically, and she took it and fit it gently somewhere into the folds of one of the many bags. And he stopped and she got off lugging all the bags, and turned to look at him and said clearly, "Thank you."

Yzak might have said "You're welcome," but he nodded, his voice jammed somewhere, and she had disappeared a minute later.

But the next day, when he woke up, got he changed into the suit they had prepared for him and stood in the court, facing the judge with nobody but himself to defend his innocence, he spotted a dark hair and violet eyes amidst the people in the court. Shiho was in fact, sitting right next to Ezalia Joule. And he saw a pink ribbon that looked terribly familiar sitting on the ends of her long, dark mane and had to smile in spite of everything.

And he was able to turn and look at the judge with confidence surging though his voice and the determination in his eyes that he was going to live and live with a vengeance.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own GS.GSD or their characters. R&R please.

* * *

Chapter 15

"Yzak Joule, Callius, Lord of the Joule House."

"He is present, your honour," Yzak replied stiffly although obediently like how they had instructed him to be like. He was dressed in a dark grey suit with a tie, and he felt tremendously stifled, which was what it was supposed to be like anyway. Know thy enemy, know thyself, he repeated to himself, know thy enemy, know thyself, and he tried to breath properly.

"Very well. This courtroom and trial will commence."

The voice, high above him, placed in a well elevated position where nothing else would be heard except the booming acoustics that magnified the judge's voice made him feel nauseous suddenly. They were judging him. He was being judged by people he did not know and vice versa, they didn't know him. And yet they judged him with cold, flinty eyes.

His mind's eye was revealing everything spanning around him in a picture. There was the judge's seat high above him where he could not see the face but the rest of the world could. And the panel was somewhere by the side, those who wanted his blood, prosecutors, vultures, all of them who had sent him to war and were now punishing him for it. And behind and slightly at the side were those who were here to see the trial. a shufffling and mingling of miscellaneous reporters, his mother, sitting in the chair regally, and a few people he vaguely recognised, and of course, there was Shiho Hahenfuss.When he had seen her sitting there, he hadn't known whether to be alarmed or not. His mother wouldn't go so far, he repeated to himself, trying to calm down, she surely wouldn't have.

The reporters were few, there had been many, countless even, at the first few trials when the Lords of many various Houses had been either let off the hook or sent to pay for their crimes, but the media was terated to such sights one too msny times, and the vultures were getting sick of the same rancid meat everyday. And thankfully, that was the key reason why there were few people witnessing his fall from grace, as rumours put it. The Jole House was still famed for its partially militaristic background, but it was more well-known and respected for its hold on the economy. Ezalia Joule didn't take much in the stakes of that field, she was the top and only member in the field of PLANT's politics, since the Joules had never put their fingers in that particular pie. The shares the Joule House held were aplenty managed by many other Houses, one of them the Elseman House, that at least he could remember, but it was ultimately the Joule's stake in the economy that brought their income and riches in.

"Woe betide the reporters who are sent here to report on the Joules,"his mother had told him very cynically once, "They don't understand that their work will never be published completely if it should it be something I, as Head of House, forbid."

But his mother's influnece was limited now, and personally, he dind't quite care even if they slandered him as a criminal or something degradory, as long as the people who mattered to him thought well of him, Yzak would scorn the rest of the world in their dosfain for someone who had equal disdain for those who mattered not.

"Yzak Joule, Lord of Joule House, Callius Deo. You stand convicted of the following crime: Intended murder of four hundred and seventy-eight civillians from the United Emirates of ORB in the Battle of Orbit that took place on the thirteenth of Februrary, Cosmic Era year seventy-one."

The prosecutor was quite pathetic, Yzak thought inwardly, trying hard not to smirk, quite dull-looking with his mousy brown hair and mud-coloured eyes, quite listless, probably due to the countless of trials like this one, and quite enamoured with the next person who spoke up- the lawyer Ezalia Joule had personally handchosen out of a team to represent their case as a whole. Money hadn't been the issue, Yzak admitted cynically, it had never been and it would never be, not when the Joules had anything to do with it.

Of course, the lawyer who represented him now was very stunning, terribly easy on the eyes with a fresh heart-shaped face and long, dark hair, almost black, that was neatly looped behind her but drew attention to her milky-white skin and grey eyes. She wasn't petite even though her features were almost fragile, she moved like a panther and had a kind of savage grace he had never seen in a woman. From some lights, her eyes looked almost purple, although it was only very slight. She was frowning now, a pity, Yzak thought dully, her pink lips had looked ripe before they were pursed in a frown. He had met her only on one occasion when she had passed by him in the house while working for his mother, and he had noticed her almost immediately because she was terribly striking. She had paused slightly after he did and mimicked his stare that he was directing at her, and then she had smiled and moved off. Ironic then, he thought dryly, that he had only learnt her name an hour before moving in for the trial.

Claude Diamini was brilliant, she obviously was, for Ezalia Joule was a demanding person when it came to those who worked for her, but then Diamini possessed something that no other lawyer in the assembled team had- feminity. To be just, it was natural for them not to, they were either all male or all too plain even by Coordinator standards.Diamini on the other hand, was young and, a few years older than him to be exact, and more importantly, very female. The prosecutor was a male, that at least his mother had found out, and then she had planned the next line of action veyr promptly. Besides, his ,mother had reasoned, she was a ruthless hawk when it came to her case, that is, him. Having said that, Diamini would only be allowed to fight for the case in the first hour, and after that, it was all up to him. Not many had the priviledge of an assembled team of lawyers to brainstorm ways to save his skin, but for Yzak Joule, it was a given.

Diamini faced the court directly and spoke, her voice deceptively light and pretty like a butterfly's wings, her eyes serious but with a hint of meekness in them, probably part of the act to get the judge to notice her, Yzak thought bitterly. His mother was smart, oh she was, and Diamini was intelligent enough to follow orders in any case. Of course, it was sober reality that he would haveto face the court himself after the hour was up. From the corner of his eye, he noted that his mother was staring blankly ahead into something he would never be able to see or fathom, and Shiho, she was reading a manual on mechanics, that he could make out at least. And he couldn't see her face, the book was hiding most of it, but he saw a hand twitch and felt a strange sense of discorncertment that she was even there and next to his mother. Surely Ezalia wouldn't go back on her word?

But his lawyer spoke, and all attention was drawn back to her. She paced slightly, and said evenly, "Objection, your Honour. My client Lord Joule here has indeed committed the above, but unlike the assertion, he did not commit murder intentionally, but did it purely out of other less malicious intentions."

"Intentions?" the state prosecutor was saying swiftly, but his eyes were unfocused, Yzak could see that veyr clearly because of their proximity, huis mother had been correct in choosing Diamini, "I hardly think that anyone who vapourises an entire ship of civillians in a single blow would have any other intentions other than killing them out of spite. Which of course, is a war crime."

"Hardly so," Diamini cut in harshly, now he understood the hawk bit his mother had said and he looked a bit admiringly at Diamini, "My client's intention was to prevent the people in the ship from escaping simply because he thought they were soldiers trying to escape. And surely, being a ZAFT soldier, hardly considering the fact that Lord Joule here is an elite, one would try to complete the mission to the best of his abiloties? My client mistakenly thought that the ship was a militray one and not a civillian one, and therefore murder was not intended and he is not guilty of the above crime as stated."

"He thought?" the rpsecutor lashed out,"You mean to say he killed all of them because of one mistake in his mind? How do you prove that Lord Joule here only killed the civillians because he thought that they were soldiers?"

Ah they, had him now. He stared stubbornly ahead, trying not to see anything except what was in front of him, the situation was getting stickier than ever and he would be in deep trouble if they couldn't prove it. And then the judge's voice which beloged to a face he couldn't connect it to due to the obvious attmepts to prevent the prosecuted from seeing the judge rose over his head, "The hour is over, Yzak Joule will now take the defendant's position for himself."

Diamini stepped back, her eyes flashing, but she had already fulfilled her obligations, there was nothing more she might do to fight for his case. The state had ruled it as such. Now, it was up to him and nobody would save him f he couldn't save himself.

Biting back a deep sigh, Yzak faced the prosecutor and offered evenly, "I don't suppose I can prove that I truly made a msitake in thinkingt hat the ship I took down was a militray one and not a civillian one which it turned out to be. But to me, at that time, the ship was a model commonly used by militray forces, and it didn't occur to me that no civillian ship would have been availabe to let the Heliopolis refugees to escape in at that time."

"So you came to the conclsuions, although a false one, that it was a militray ship and not a civiallin one because of its appearance," the prosecutor repeated carelessly and intentionally dubious, it didn't help that Diamini wasn't around to detract attention from him, "And what about the signal they sent showing that they had civilians on board?"

"The signal was given too late," Yzak shot back, "I saw it only after the ray was hurtling towards them, and I could have done nothing to prevent their immediate destruction."

"You killed civiallins mercilessly," the protestant was insisting, bastard that he was, "The fact does not change even if you had intentions of preventing soldiers from escaping."

"Look," he interrupted impatiently and quite forgetting the warning to address the prosecuptr politely like what the lawyers had told him to, "I did what I did because the war doesn't allow you to lick your lips when you have an enemy before you. The hard and fast rule is shoot and think later, isn't that what ZAFT taught us? Obviously, it wasn't correct, but how the hell would I ahve known that until the war ended?"

A unanimous gasp shot trhoughout the entire court, probably nobody had addressed the prosecutor so aggresively or flippantly all at once, but Yzak Joule was a surprising person. He noted with a smirk, that the oprosecutor looked aghast and his mother looked slightly approving. Score one, he thought triumphantly, at least his mother understood that he woudlnt' go without a good kick at the diiots in front of him. But then he saw Shiho, her book had dropped into her lap and she had buried her face in her hands, and his slight giddiness melted immediately into regret, and he hated himself immensely for it. He shouldn't have cared if she was distraught at the way he was handling things, but the matter of fact was that he did.

The judge's voice was furious, spittled and brusque, "You will address the prosecutor respectuflly!"

"Yes sir," he replied mock-seriously, ready to throw in some insult at the back of his next words, but suddenly, there was a murmur that ran through the room and he turned around to see what the issue was now. In the midst of the officials sitting, a single person had risen to his feet, and Yzak suddenly felt as if time had halted on its feet for the person standing before the judge and the rest of them. And he remembered that Eileen Canaver had mentioned a few promising and likely successors to the Chairman position, and the one she had been particualrly approving of was him, Gilbert Dullindal.

And Yzak could see why. The man had an indefinable charisma ahout him, from his impecabble dressing to the very way he moved and spoke, and when he did, the court was silent.

"Frogive me," Dullindal called out, his voice powerful and surging with strength effortlessly, "But I have seen enough of children who are forced to murder and are prosecuted by the very people who forced them to murder in the first palce."

The judge was choking above him, Yzak realised, he still couldn't see but the sound was echoing throughoput the whole place, and there were calls of approval from all those present. Ezalia sat erect and proud, her bearing like a queen's and her eyes were trained on Dullindal, but they were very sharp and keen.

Not bothering to wait for the judge to recover, Dullindal pressed on, adressing not the judge but all those around, and he truned to look at them, each and eveyr one, until his eyes met Yzak's, and he said softly but infinitely insistent, "We forced them into this and now we want them to face comeuppance in the name of justice. Forgive me once again for the audacity, but this is, in my opinion, abominable far more than some of the crimes committed by pure accident. And the Lord of the Joule House, like many others in his situation, is eighteen. By Coordinator standards, he is an adult, a young one to be sure, and if we must end his life here, we end the future of PLANT. A person like him can contribute to PLANT in our recovery from the aftermath of the war, should we kill those who killed in mistake, we will be destroing hopes of recovery, complete or speedy. I have said my piece, I leave you to think and reflect upon what I have just said."

He sat down, but it was as if a spotlight was hining on him. And suddenly, the court had risen to its feet in Dullindal's place and they were screaming in many voices, unified only by their will, "He is innocent! Leave him be!"

And suddenly, no matter how hard the mallet was banged and how pained the prosecutor looked, he was hauled away by hands he didn't recognise and the court was promptly closed. He saw, from afar, that only one person was still sitting-Shiho. Tears were openly running down her eyes and flooding down her pale cheeks, but nobody but him saw her. She was not noticed in the fiasco, she was not heard. Dullindal had already left, and Ezalia was making her way to him even as reporters were interviewing the court and asking questions he couldn't hear properly even. And nobody but Yzak saw that Shiho was crying, lost in a sea of people. He tried to go to her but hands he didn't recognise were still pulling him back until he saw Ezalia in front of him, blocking everything away, and he had to strain to hear her next words even as her arms locked around him.

Ezalia was embracing him tightly, and then she let go, took one step back amidst the furore and chaos of the courtroom and surveyed him with keen eyes as if nothing had happened and said smoothly, "Well done. Dullindal has saved you as well, and so has Diamini.You may go and thank them, espceailly Diamini, since she'll be the next mistress of the Joule House in time to come."

He couldn't argue with her or even being to articulate his muddled thoughts, not in a situation like this, but even as he was led into a car with darkened windows as reporters flooded out of the courtroom while trailing them, all his mind held were thoughts of Shiho, rooted in her seat, wet, salty tears streaming down her cheeks.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I don't own GS.GSD or their characters. R&R please.

* * *

Chapter 16 

The Joule's dining table was fit for royalty, and if a person wanted to judge the particular House by all the Houses in PLANT, then it was a King's world, or more accurately, a Queen's. Ezalia Joule's world, a world Yzak was bound to.

The Horiton lace was freshly washed, starched and ironed, pristine white and soft like snow. Yzak galnced at it and experienced an irresistable urge to tip his crstal goblet and empty his wine to make a blasphemous stain there, just for the heck of it all. His mother sat at the head, daintily partaking of her meal, and her hair glinted silver under the light of the chandeliers high above them. The room could have fit a hundred, but there were only three in it at the moment.

He gazed at his mother with an inscrutable expression on his face, careful to guard what he was thinking from her. Any slip would cost him more than he would have liked to contemplate, but Yzak couldn't help wondering what his mother was up to now.She was wearing an emerald dress, deep and forest-coloured, doing justice to her fine features and aristocratic lineage, but Claude Diamini, in contrast, wore a salmon-coloured dress. A casual colour, made almost frivolous next to the luxuriant green his mother was swathed in, bu Diamini didn't look too bothered by it. Yzak, on the other hand, was still clad in his work clothes, the signature teal coloured coat had been shed to reveal his dark grey shirt and jet pants. He never dressed down even when the coat covered everything while at work; Ezalia never did, and neither did Yzak. Nor for that matter, did any Joule.

Diamini sat before him, mimicking his stare once again, and he had to remind himself to try and be gracious and pleasant, hah, to her. The day after he had arrived home from the trial, his mother had requested that he leave work early to come home and meet Claude Diamini, but Yzak had completely forgotten ahout it, since work, exhausting and extensive, often did that anyway. But a message had been sent int he evening for him, and he had taken one glance at the clock and threw everything down, cursing loudly and barking roders to the assitant before throwing on hsi coat and hurryng off.

Ezalia Joule sat at the head of the table, a placid smile on her lips and her eyes quite wide open, but Yzak didn't trust her veyr much, he hadn't after seeing what she was capable of when he was two. Dinner was splendid, it always was, and Yzak would have quite enjoyed himself more if he wasn't expected to entertain Diamini. She was eating, a vacant look in her eyes that Yzak found pleasing because it showed she wasn't going to be particualrly bothered with him anyway, because neither was he. Where the hell was she from anyway?

Without meaning to, he started ticking off the criteria of no particular context, she wasn't in any powerful or famous House, not like the Zala or Amalfi one, but maybe that didn't matter, it hadn't after the Zala House had promised Athrun Zala to be wed with Lacus Clyne. The history of the Clyne House had very little to boast until recently when Siegel Clyne had became chairman of PLANT and Lacus Clyne had came about. So maybe Diamini's heritage and her lineage didn't matter so much now in the context of arranged marriages.

Weak, unassuming, delicate girl? Not likely. She would be a handful, that he was sure of. But then, so had Shiho Hahenfuss, he thought veyr bitterly. His mother certainly didn't look for demureness in a girl, she cast her net for the trouble-makers alright.

And Claude Diamini was quite lovely, greyish eyes a shade he wasn't too sure of being able to identify with pale skin and dark hair, she looked like she had some European genealogy, a tad similar to Athrun Zala's. Perhpas his mother had chosen her on that note, Yzak thought wearily, but then, Shiho had been very beautiful in a queer, unexpected sort of way too. And he had fallen once and he wouldn't ever again. He'd be an idiot to.

He made a mental note to chekc with his mother later, it was the least he could do if he was going to get hitched to her sooner or later. As far as his memory would stretch, Yzak couldn't recall any particualr Diamini House, her name was vaguely familiar but he wan't sure exactly which House she belonged to. Perhaps he was mistaken and she didn't belong to any particular one at all, but he highly doubted that his mother would chose a person without any influential or affluent background. All Yzak wanted to do was to polish his dinner and go for his solo walk. Eveything that night seemed to irritate him somehow, the cutlery was too gleaming, the meat was overly salted, the wine was atrocious, the chandeliers were too sparkling, and the air was too stiflling for his liking.

"Claude," his mother was addressing her kindly while she cut the steak up neatly into pieces, "My son would like to thank you and your efforts in fighting for his case."

And Ezalia turned to him, her smile still resent but something luring behind her blue eyes-a warning, and he looked blankly at her, turned to Diamini and smiled a little listlessly.

"Yes," he echoed coolly, "Thank you.Your efforts are appreciated."

He stole a gulp of his wine and swallowed, then he set down the goblet violently and watched his mother frown from the corner of his eye.

"No issue," Diamini was replying flippantly, dabbing her lips with the prsitine napkin, "You paid me to do what I do best."

Smart mouth, he thought regretfully, admiring her casualness and ability to be so flippant even in the presence of the Joules. Perhaps she would grow on him eventually. A pity that she was probably another pawn of his mother's, and that she didn't appeal much to him even with her beauty and intelligence. But then again, he wasn't emotionally attached to anybody in particular, what difference did it make?

His mother was smiling at her, genuinely, Yzak was surprised to notice. Perhaps her biting wit and sharp tongue, coupled with the slightly cynical eyes had appealed to Ezalia Joule, which would be a good thing, since anything that appealed to Ezalia was likely to be treated well, if not very. Sighing a little, he ate in silence, not bothering to make conversation, letting his mother do most of the talking. But Diamini didn't mind, she was quite brief in her answers too, in fact, she gave little response as if answering in detail was beneath her, but he could see almost immediately that her eloquence would not be hidden at any point of time. If he allowed hismelf to, he would appreciate her in time, that he was confirmed of, but he didn't know if he woudl love her. But Yzak wasn'tr sure if he was even capable of loving to an obvious degree anyway. It was too difficult for him, he thought, his mouth twisitng bitterly, if love was as difficult as what he had experienced, he would rather forgo the damn thing altogether at once.

"Yzak," his mother commanded, fingering the edge of her pprcelian plate, "Bring Claude out for a walk, I will retire and rest, I feel a migrain starting."

So she had tired of trying to get Claude Diamini to open up already, Yzak realised.

"Yes," he replied dutifully, hiding the scowl and putting his napkin down neatly like a gentleman should even though he would have preferred to lobb it down ungracefully. His mother looked like she was in the pink of health, migrain, what migrain? Pushing his chair back silently, making sure no rampant squeaks were issued, he pulled Diamini's chair back for her and she moved languidly from it, mumuring her thanks, and he offered a hand to her and she placed her gloved hand in it and he stiffly led her out into the estate's gardens.

He was aware that his mtoher's eyes were boring holes in his back, and he grimaced and concentrated at the task at hand. Claude Diamini, she was twenty-one this year, the most promising private lawyer in the field at current, but that was all he had heard. His mother had bene tight-lipped, oh she had been very, but she had looked at him half-pleadingly and said softly, "Give her a chance."

And if course Yzak would. The first thing was, he couldn't refuse his mother when she pleaded like that. So he'd give Claude Diamini a chance alright. A chance to get going and out of the web before she got hersdelf too hurt for a graceful exit. But now, he would treat her fairly, she probably didn't know what she was getting herself into, maybe she was power-hungry, looking for the social status a person would get only through marrying into one of the oldest, most intrigue-filled Houses that ahd existed from the beginning of PLANT.

Pausing slightly to take in the dangerously exquisite scent of azaeleas in the distance, he turned around to look at Diamini, and he addressed her as such, gruffly and a bit awkwardly, "What do you want in agreeing to this?"

"PLANT is a kingdom in itself," she replied offhandedly but not missing a single beat either, "Who wouldn't want to be a queen?"

"This is marriage you could be getting into," Yzak shot at her, not quite belieinvg how foolhardy she was, "Does it not seem obvious to you, Diamini, that you cannot throw in the towel once you're in it?"

"Sure," Diamini said carelessly, "I might as well get stuck in it. You're not half-bad yourself, and being a queen is good, being your queen is even better."

She looked at him with laughing eyes, composed and regal even when her lips were curved into a mocking lilt, and she was like a queen of the highest order and a court jester of the lowest standing all rolled into one. Breathtaking in that instant.But all for the wrong reasons.

He was struck by how familiar her form was to him, and how stunning she was, standing there half-illuminated by the moonlight and a placid expression in her eyes, and in the dim lighting, her eyes, made amesthyst by the moon and her hair, the exact same shade he had dreamt of a few times in the past affected him as if he were struck by a plague and he saw Shiho Hahenfuss staring back at him.

Shifting his weight onto one foot, he stared at her and she smiled, a carefree, guiless smile, and he saw that she was wise beyond her years but very young too, very careless and very fond of danger. Making a decision in an instant, he pulled her to him in one swift motion, lifted her hand and bent down on one knee, kissing it gently. She was silent, her hand limp and lifeless, and when he stood again, his voice was authoratatice.

"Will you honour the agreement as Claude Diamini to fulfil the engagement to be Lady Joule?" he asked softly, his eyes no longer critical and his tone that of resignation.

Diamini looked at him mutely, and he saw pity move in her eyes and felt disconcerted for the second time that night. Had his mother chosen her because of her uncanny resemblance to Shiho from some angles? But he pushed all strange thoughts from his head and heard her reply emotionlessly, "I will."

He couldn't begin to fathom her intentions or her role in the web closing around him, and Yzak exhaled slowly, still holding onto her hand although the gesture hadn't been entirely affectionate, simply force of training and customary etiquette. But an instant later, she had spun into his arms and kissed him with the force he had lacked when he had kissed her hand. He accepted it, and with his remaining senses, he knew that she would be a replacement, always, in his mind and heart. And he hated her for being the replacement he needed but didn't want to need. But he could imagine she was Shiho there and then, and he didn't want to think too much n case he woke up to reality.

"You're a replacement for someone else," he told her fiercely, watching her eyes flicker over his face, "You ought to know your place. I can cancel the engagement at any point, remebere that you have no ties to any House the Joule House must take into consideration."

"That doesn't matter," Diamini retorted, a smile on her face he would have described as child-like and guiless if he wasn't so wary of the hold she might have on him if he wasn't cautious enough, "And I knew I was a replacement the day your mother suggested meeting you. I don't expect a House like the Joule one to not arrange a future Lady for the Lord by the time he reaches thirteen. If you haven't noticed yet, I'm not exactly clueless."

"Impressive," he admitted, staring unflinchingly back at her, "So you knew something must have gone wrong that made the engagement annul itself, therefore making the next candiate for Lady a replacement of the original."

Claude, that name was strange on his lips, she looked at him, still smiling that strange smile he found amusing suddenly, and she tilted her head slightly, another gesture reminiscent of Shiho, and he felt a pang go through him. Damn her, damn Claude, damn them all, he thought angrily.

"Agreed," she said quite blithely, "And I don't mind being one because I expect the marginal benefits are higher than the marginal costs. That is to say, I get social status that furthers my career and you get a replacement like you said."

He lifted a cynical eyebrow at her words, so solemn and serious evne though she looked strangely child-like stadning there, leaning against a pillar and smiling at him like she knew something he didn't. And he pulled her hand and moved quickly towards the main Manor, quite eager to get it over and done with, tell his mother that everything was setltled and that if she was satisfied enough, maybe she would leave him to his own devices until Ezalia decided she wanted a union of some sorts.

But a strange sense of incongruity overpowered him as she trailed after him, her gown swishing against the marble tiles, the tiles pale and stark bone pieces in the grass, and he looked up to the East window where the large, tall windows were positioned and glimpsed a pale face staring at him, almost encroached by the darkness, and he wanted to scream with anguish and throw something against the wall in his agony.

For there Shiho was, standing forlornly as she might have once did as a child, but now framed against the east window staring at him and Claude Diamini. She looked agahst, the first time he had seen her lack of composure so close upfront, and all he could see was the wild expresison in her violet eyes.

Diamini was looking up too and the window, following his line of sight, and she looked a little startled to see someone staring unblinking ly at them. She moved behind Yzak, asking curiously, "Who's that," but he shoved her away very roughly, nto caring that he was probably breaking a dozen rules he had bene tauhgt concerning manners, and he was running to the entrance, charging up the stairs, three at a time into the hall of the room he knew Shiho was in.

And he flung the doors open and saw his mother looking directly at him with a grimness set in her face. And his breath caught and his heart skipepd a few beats when he saw that she was standing in front of Shiho almost protectively, and Shiho looked-, there was no other word for it, really.

Shiho was broken.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD. Please R&R!

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Chapter 17 

It would make a very good scene for a soap opera. The skies were dark, ready to pour their tears down from the ominous, raven-coloured clouds. And there was some kind of foreboding as Yzak stared in utter silence at Shiho Hahenfuss and his mother.

Perfect, he thought dully, best way on how to screw up ever.

She pushed past him and walked woodenly, through the door he had flung open, and the only people left there were his mother and him. She hadn't said a single word, she had just left like that. He wondered for a brief, fleeting moment, if Claude Diamni would catch sight of a girl who looked similar to her in certain ways.

He didn't try to chase after Shiho Hahenfuss, he barely even looked at her retreating back. She wasn't crying or anything like that, she just looked detached and empathetic. He had wanted to call out to her and tell her that he- but he didn't know what to say either. She was gone, he let her go. What was there to prove anyway?

"Screwed up, isn't it?" Ezalia Joule offered mildly, resting on a couch, looking remarkably calm. He fought hard to keep the bile down and the urge to shake her until the mask of clam slipped and shattered into a million pieces on the marble floor.

"Sure," he said bitterly, "You planned it that way, perhaps I should thank you for setting the lines clear beyond any line of argument. And your timing was immaculate, I suppose now that my life's not being threatened by the Council, it's sooner the better I find someone to bring glory to this House."

His mother smiled at him. Quite a sad smile. But he didn't bother with anything, he turned back to the doorway where Diamini was standing and barked roughly, "You can go now."

"So I was chosen," she declared, her lips curling into a frown, "Because I resemble her?"

"Obviously," Yzak answered bitingly, not bothering to hide the truth from her or from him, for that matter.

"But the contract's anulled. I won't be seeing you out."

His words were sharp, his tone, bitter.

"No," Diamini echoed, her face mocking, "You don't care and neither do I."

She turned on her heel and glided gracefully out. He didn't see her fighting hard to keep the tears from falling, tears resulting of the rejection and the lost hope that life might have been better if he had accepted her one day. But to him, she meant nothing, and perhaps it was better that it stayed that way.

'Good riddiance,' he thought rebelliously, although he wasn't particularly unfond of her. But everything was a mess now, he felt like yanking his hair out, and then maybe it would all fade away and leave him peace. First the war, then now this. He'd have been better off fightng in a mobile weapon where the only thing that mattered was taking down as many as possible.

"I will say this once and for all, mother," Yzak said fiercely, raising his eyes to where Ezalia sat, gazing steadily at him, "Don't mess with my life anymore."

He turned on his heel and stalked out, not bothering to look behind, feeling her eyes bore at his back until he closed the door, not slamming it either. He was far too weary for that.

The next few months were agony, he still worked in the High Council and tried to stretch his work out so he would only go home, as work-worn as a bull and as mindless as a cow. His mother never said anything, she was still under House arrest, but her influence spanned far greater than the confines of the manor. She was controlling certain parts of the society here and there, and although that would be potentially volatile, he knew Ezalia Joule was too intelligent and shrewd a woman to make the same mistake twice. And Yzak knew better than to go home at the stipulated time, any sight of anyone would have made him go mad with rage, but then one day, Dearka came calling, a grin stretched over his features.

"I'm busy, get out," he snapped at his friend, shuffling the sheafs of papers here and there. His friend ignored his words, gazing unappreciatingly with a pained expression at the work that surrounded Yzak. But then, they both knew that those were already completed, ready for submission long before the assigned dateline. It had become a sort of twisted game for Yzak, he would start as soon as he could, on all the assignments, and start on those due only much, much later, so that he would rush himself in a backwards order.

"Like hell you are," his friend retorted flamboyantly, "You know, if you lived a little more, you wouldn't be so dead."

"Profound words from a shallow person like you," Yzak sneered, "And I suppose your new girlfriend fianlly stopped hallucinating and moved on?"

His caustic words wiped the smile off his friend's face, but an instant later, it was swtiched on, brighter than ever but somewhat forced.

"I propose a drinking session," Dearka said a little glumly, and Yzak snorted in disgust and snarled, "You have leave tomorrow, I don't!"

His friend peered at him, eyes widening slightly, and Yzak recoiled involuntairly as he leant in on him, blasting angrily, "What?"

"You removed your scar!" Dearka said in wonder, but Yzak snorted again and said cynically, "Yeah, five seconds ago. It's been gone for half a year, either you were blind or you were too busy with your new girl. Don't bother telling me what her name is, I can't be bothered to actually find out and store it in the limited space of my memory."

"Touche," Dearka grinned, 'I just wanted to give you a chance to get your sorry self out of this doghouse, and don't give me that crap about not having leave. I checked with those people," he jabbed a thumb towards the door, "And they said you were so hardworking, they thought you were a voodoo worker, you know, those kinds that witch doctors make out of corpses and all that horrible occult rubbish. Seems to me that you have a granary of a week's worth of leave. Plenty of time to get roaring drunk then."

"Shut up,' Yzak retorted fiercely, "I don't have any woes unlike you, Dearka, you want a drinking partner? Go find some sorry servant who doesn't mind getting into a bar with you to listen to your problems with your girl."

His friend chuckled easily, quite immune to the curses and threats that Yzak had never failed to throw at him.

"I came with news too," Dearka offered cheerfully, as if he hadn't heard Yzak swear so badly, it might have made a grown man blush.

"The top brass want me to tell you that you've been invited back to ZAFT, you'll be promoted to White-coat status, obviously. Whereas defecters like I," he grinned ruefully, "have been rightfully demoted. It's still terrible, it is. Enough to make me defect again, better job prospects out there, probably."

"Defect again?" Yzak roared, his face slightly red and Dearka took a step back, his hands held up defensively, and he chuckled a tad nervously, "Kidding. The last time I said that, you pointed a gun at me. D'you think I'd actualyl do it for the second time?"

"You'd better not," Yzak scoweld, "Your sorry arse won't be saved by even Gilbert Dullindal, who looks set to be PLANT's new idol. Lacus Clyne's disappeared, noody has her to sing and all that. You never know. Dullindal could chalk his popularity sufficiently by filming some music vidoes by the sea and white windmills that blow in the damned wind."

"I sense something bitter there," Dearka joked, "He saves you and you're crass about it? Oh, don't bother explaining yourself, the Lord Joule isn't in a veyr good mood. Like I said, go get a drink. Or rather, get a few. And in the morning, get some medicine for a hangover, I know you'll be suffering once we hit the second round."

"Is that a challenge?" Yzak snapped, his eyes slits and when Dearka shrugged non-comitally, he stood up, enraged, and he swept aside the papers with his right hand, hauling a coat to him with the left.

"We set off now," he orderd his friend as he marched out, "Don't think of backing out, defector that you are."

"Ouch," Dearka grinned foolishly, "I never knew words laced with slight challenges had so much effect on the Lord Joule."

"What did you say?" Yzak demanded, not quite catching what his friend had mumbled, "Care to repeat?"

"No," Dearka said hastily, "Let's go, I'll drive."

They moved in, Yzak slamming the door with vehemence and Dearka closing it more leisurely. He was in a foul-mood, ready to blow his top at anyone and everyone, and Dearka knew that. What the cause was didn't matter, just that Dearka was tired of watching his friend wasting around. And so, he had presented himself to Yzak the way a sacrificial lamb would have done, because the sooner Yzak Jouel got out of his perpetually filthy mode (which was admittedly childish from Dearka's point of view), the more blessed the PLANTs would all be.

It helped that Mirallia Haww was off cavorting in some islands near ORB, he had free time to go look up on Yzak then.

The bar was almost a reserve for ZAFTies, from the commanders all the way to the grease-monkeys, or as they liked to be called, 'Technical Support.' Nobody actually bothered who was there, because most of them were ZAFTies anyway, asking one was equivalent to asking all. The lighting was sufficiently bright, but generally dim, just so that a person wouldn't be entirely disclosed in his identity. The glasses were clinking eveyrwhere, the lights were moving almost lazily in circular motions, and Dearka tried not to snort with laughter as he watched Yzak's albino hair serve as a palette of colours. It helped to have dark hair here, Dearka observed, Yzak was looking like Lacus Clyne at one instant, then a blonde the next. Of course he didn't tell Yzak, he didn't even mention 'pastels-galore', he hadn't survived the war to be killed by his best friend in a fit of induced rage.

"Beer," he called indulgently, and a minute later, it was served. Yzak wrinkled his nose, asking for a martini instead.

"What a smutz," Dearka muttered, "Only drinks that stuff. No beer, no, it's too low-class."

"I heard that," Yzak said sharply, "And I'm too tired to pick a fight over it now."

He breathed a sigh of relief and glanced over to where the others were sitting along the row of counters on their elevated chairs, and then Dearka decided it was time to pop the question.

"Alright," he began cautiously with just the right amount of detectable cheerfulness in his voice without it being to jarring, "What's eating you?"

"Nothing," Yzak growled, "Nothing at all."

He remained silent and Dearka took a gulp of beer, swirling the can around absently, then he got up and leant back on his seat, observing his friend who was crouching in his seat. His back was facing Dearka from the corner of his eye, and it was obvious that the sour countenance Yzak displayed was beginning to become infectious.

"You can't fool me," Dearka began winsomely, "You know, we havn't been friends long enough for me to tell you that your hairstyle is- singularly unique, but then, we've been friends long enough for you to tell me what the hell's bugging you this badly."

An angry, almost sulky silence was met, and Dearka sighed inwardly, calling for another beer.

"Any time you want," he told Yzak, "You can begin."

"Fine," his friend grumbled,"Just don't tell anyone that I've been manipulated by all the women in my bloody life."

"No worries," Dearka said turning back eagerly so he faced the counter again, signalling for a few more martinis, he suspected those would come in handy later, "Nobody listens here anyway, not if they aren't invited into the conversation."

Which was true, because the place was quite noisy and filled with soldiers milling in and out. As far as they were concerned, they were probably lost in the crushing crowds of ZAFTies. A few looked familiar, and Dearka might have gone over to say hello, but today, he had bigger fish to catch.

"Alright," Yzak conceded, "My mother arranged a fiancee with the fiancee's parent. Well, obviously, I just realised how dumb that sounded. They arranged it before the war, I only found out during that time when I was busy trying not to die."

"In any case," he continued awkwardly, rotating the glass aimlessly, "It didn't work out too well, and that's fine, I don't see a point in settling for an arranged marriage like I'm such drugged donkey, and she thought so too. Then my mother goes full steam and lands me this job and a new fiancee, which looks like the old one. Tell me how screwed up that can be."

"It's not that bad, actually," Dearka replied blithely, and Yzak's eyes darted over, focused on something else other than the counter top that evening, "It's quite logical."

"Elaborate," Yzak muttered dully, "I fail to see the connection."

"Simple," Dearka offered eagerly, "Your mother dearest wants the best for you, obviously. You get this swanky job that you unfortunately, have to work your miserable arse off at, and pretty hard too, I might add. And in the meantime, she gets you someone who looks like the first one. Seems pretty logical to me, and I'm praying that the first one was good-looking so the second one is too."

A look of frustration crossed Yzak's features, and he all but snarled, "It isn't logical! Look, assuming I like alcohol," he gesticulated violently at his almost-empty glass, "And I have this glass I've been drinking. Then you go and I don't know, dump a cockoroach into it. Then you go get me another that looks exactly the same as compensation, but it's not the same! It's not the same glass of whatever I was drinking!"

"I'm not getting what you mean," Dearka said absently, "But at least you said it all out, loud and clear, it's off your chest now, and good," he grinned, "Our drinks are coming. Just in time too, I couldn't ask for better timing."

He pulled a martini to himself and handed Yzak a beer. Yzak glared at him, but Dearka snorted and said hastily, "Just try it. The cheap taste isn't half bad once you get used to it. On the other hand," he wrinkled his nose in distaste, "the expensive taste does seem a little cheap when you've been used to the cheap."

"Yeah," Yzak said sarcastically, "That makes about as much sense as I did a few sentences ago."

"No problem, really, "Dearka pointed out, "If you didn't like the first one, then the second one wouldn't make much of a difference, much less an impact.Unless of course," he paused, his purple eyes sly, "You like the lucky girl who probably didn't realise the infamous bull-temper-Joule didn't exactly despise her."

"Shut up," he hissed, "We came here to drink, stop yakking and get on with it."

He shoved the glass roughly against Dearka's own glass and the contact made a clinking sound. They drank, glass after glass, until Dearka looked ready to throw up and Yzak was feeling pleasantly- light-headed, which made the slightly more sane man irratated. Light-headedness was not a good thing, he told himself furiously, but then Yzak couldn't blame anyone, he had fallen for the bait his friend had set out.

Glancing over at the figure crouching at the side of the shrubs, throwing up like tomorrow would never come, Yzak wrinkled his noste in distaste. Dearka never knew when to stop, and his tolerance for alchohol wasn't particularly outstanding either, relatively strong, but just not enough to tolerate five rounds of heavy drinking. But he had still gone ahead hadn't he? Idiotic as usual.

"Funny," he sneered at his friend who was stumbling back in a daze, "I thought I was the one who was supposed to get wasted."

"You win," Dearka said weakly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "And you know neither of us would get off the hook if we were caught driving like this, you better stay in the camp for tonight. Tomorrow, you can get someone to cover you for work, I think Verne Barnet's on leave, his room's empty, so you can borrow it for tonight. Just don't do your thing on it, I think he'd suspect someone was in it and was more than a little ill from drinking."

Yzak stared in dismay at Dearka, willing himself not to punch something, and he said tightly, "You're more likely to do that on your own bed, not me. It was a mistake following you to get drunk. I didn't achieve that and now I get to be stuck in a ZAFTy's empty bunk. Joy."

"Stop whining like a girl and get a move on," Dearka said irritably, his temper by no means good with the buzz that seemed to be encroaching from all corners, "Stuff it and get moving."

"I'm the one who's being offered a Commandership here," Yzak grumbled, moving slightly haphazardly after Dearka who was trailing off quite steadily, considering that he was wasted, "And you're not even a Redcoat."

"Yeah well, you aren't a Commander yet," Dearka said, his tone uncharacteristically sharp, "So get a move along and you can rest your sorry self on a bed and wallow in your self-pity. It's a good thing your first fiancee, whoever that girl is, didn't get too close to you. She might have died in frustration of not being able to penetrate your thick, stupid skull."

And he hobbled off, obviously in discomfort, and somehow, Yzak wasn't even cheered by the sound of his friend vomitting as they moved dazedly through the barracks. Dearka might not have said what he just had if he were more sober, Yzak reflected later, but then it didn't make what he had said any less true.

He sat on an unfamiliar bed, its mattress distressingly lumpy and its pillow as good as a rock. He didn't sleep much, he lay on his back, staring at a ceiling as he had once done when he had been on the Vesalius. And he thought of the way Shiho had once ran to him when they were but children, offering violets and saying proudly, "I know you like to stamp on them."

And at some time during the night, when his mind was sleeping and his body was full awake, his hands twitched as he held air tightly in his arms.It might have been quite clear what he could have done if Yzak had only been more honest about admitting that he had never wanted anything or anyone so badly. He craved her approval, he silently wasted away, knowing that Shiho Hahenfuss was too trapped in her own world and he in his for him to hold her the way he had once tried to. The war was over, now, the world went through a lull period, and it was as good as a sign, that the fleeting thought or hope even, that she may have needed him as badly as he needed her, was crushed.

It wasn't as if he hadn't tried, he knew he had, he had swallowed his pride and tried to accept another ragdoll in her place.But it had proved too much in the end, hadn't it? His mother had tried and controlled his life, he wanted his life controlled, he hated incompetency, he was incompetent in saying what he really meant. And in that confusion, Yzak woke up, his head throbbing badly, and he thought he saw crushed violets on the bed, but it was only purple lint from the covers.

He cursed and got up too swiftly, and he had to sit back and try to regain his sense of balance. Damn Dearka for coercing him into drinking, he thought furiously, then he remembered that Dearka had been in a worse state, and he forced himself to stand properly.

Fetching his boots and gargling to wash the acrid taste of alcohol away, he rubbed his eyes and saw that there were dark circles there. He ignored them anyway, moving out of the room and marching to the one Dearka had disappeared into the night before. Thank God he remembered the number of the room at least, there were so many in this site of the barracks that he might have been lost for an hour or two while trying to relocate Dearka Elseman.

He knocked imapatiently and hollered as loudly as his headache would permit, "Dearka, open the door!"

There wasn't a response, so he pressed his ear to the door and heard the sound of running water gushing from a tap. Then Yzak recalled that Dearka relied heavily on cold showers to cure his inevitable hangovers and cursed under his breath. It would be quite some time before he finished, Dearka was infamous for his lengthy showers and ear-torturing shower performances, and Yzak knew that by no means, would his friend hear him and let him in.

Pausing slightly, he weighed his options, considering if it would look more foolish waiting around the door like a convict, or wandering around the barracks. He chose the latter after a minute's consideration, but he looked around first and found a locker, and then he made off swiftly with the uniform in it. It was slightly too big for him, the blazer looked more suited for a redcoat's gear which was more of a trenchcoat than the conventional green jacket the normal soliders donned. But Yzak didn't notice, he was far too used to the Redcoat's style. The pants fitted almost perfectly, but then he made do with a length of string hanging from somewhere, and then Yzak glanced at himself and cursed colourfully. Commandership offered and there he was, sneaking around like some grease-monkey trying to skive from work. But it was far better than waiting like a servant for Dearka Elseman, he thought frustratedly, and he marched off to the training grounds for old time's sake.

He passed by the landing grounds for the mobile weapons and as if by instinct, his eyes scanned around to search for long, dark hair, secured with a pink bow at its ends. But he found nothing, he only caught himself looking for something he had sworn to let go off, and then he felt like bashing something until it gave way and was reduced to nothing but a pile of rubble.

And Yzak spotted the familiar white-and-blue gundam, staring imperiously at him. It had wires sticking sadly from its cockpit, and it's general state was pretty much a pile of charred metal and irreparable parts. It would probably be sent to the junkyard, sooner or later. Maybe they wanted to try and revive it to its original state, but Yzak knew ZAFT had a quota on the number of mobile weapons they could have the day they had agreed to the Jachin Due Treaty, it seemed ridiculous that they had even considered wasting precious space on something as badly damaged as a suit used in that particular battle.

"Duel," he muttered to nobody in particular, "You're beyond hope."

Sparing it no second look, he walked away, and his feet and heart felt like weights, sinking somewhere he couldn't begin to even contemplate. His head ached, his chest felt tight, and he swore softly.

And his feet somehow led him to the shade of a place he had once called his own and he was reminded, once again, that all humans had the sort of pride and ego that made them want to own everything they could get hold of. He wasn't any better, he thought ruefully, but then, he was human, wasn't he?

He leant slowly against a tree, camouflaged by the shade the leaves above provided, and he closed his eyes. Then he reopened them and without turning around, Yzak stated dangerously, "Show yourself."

But when she came from behind him and saluted, he wanted to throw up. The Fates and Irony were a pair of good friends, he thought decidedly, staring incredulously at Shiho Hahenfuss. She looked wan, and there was something unfeeling in her violet eyes. She chose not to look at him, as if it would hurt if she did, and probably, he thought helplessly, it would.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he stared at her, and she made as if to move away, but he spoke up first, his voice gruffer than what had been intended.

"Don't go."

She froze like a prey surrounded by hunting dogs, and then she slowly turned around to face him, and she looked quietly at him and asked icily, "On what grounds should you order me about?"

He scowled and retorted, "Other than the Commandership I've been offered, that wasn't intended as an order."

"Then what, Lord Joule?" Shiho asked dully, "An instruction?"

"No," he said hesitantly, and his eyes softened unwittingly, "A request. Sit down."

Shiho remained motionless, he was a bit apprehensive at first, he thought she was going to either bolt or throw a punch at him, but then she suddenly sat down, staring into the distance. Her hair was untied, it blew gently with the wind as one, and her fringe covered her eyes. She stroked some baldes of grass at her feet absently, and she held no expression but a tired sort of countenance that he observed at once.

"I went to the Joule Estate the other day," she said eventually, "To end the contract once and for all. It's done."

"How do you want me to respond to that?" Yzak replied agressively, "Am I supposed to say good on you? Or good on us all?"

She paused, suddenly unsure, but she fought on desperately.

"Whatever that pleases you," Shiho offered noncomitally, "I don't suppose an arranged marraige would have led anywhere. You've got a career, I'm getting on with mine, we don't feel very much for each other, and we aren't exactly at the age to consider marriage in any case. You're eighteen this year, which is legal, but then I don't suppose that even comes into consideration."

She looked away and her hand rested heavily on the grass. The wind was still blowing. He could hear it in his ears and could feel the rage pounding, then he cursed the slight hangover effect that was marring her words and making them seem mocking.

"I will believe that nothing affects me, not less a fiancee who has anulled the engagement," Yzak declared coldly, "I will believe that I had nothing to do with this. I will believe that your decision, made without mine, will work out for the most benefitial paths where our lives are concerned, regardless of what I might have intended."

"You can believe anything you want," Shiho spoke up, her tone even and controlled, but her eyes wild, "I refuse to be led into a grand scheme I have no say in, not when it concerns my life and my plans for the future."

"Future?" he sneered, "You're a test-pilot, possibly one of the best in the field. And you lead your House, you have no obligation to answer to anyone for any decision you want to make. If life isn't already mapped out perfectly well, then you might have had to plan and break away from some old plans the former leader of the Hahenfuss House had, but there's obviously no need to."

She remained silent, he could goad no answer out of her, nothing of the sort that suggested that she had been forced to make a decision a while ago to break off all ties completely. And he was thrown into a dilemma he loathed. He would have married her eventually, given the right push from the surroundings and his own intentions, but then he didn't want to be held down by a person who could wield so much power over him. And what was the point, really, of harbouring some secret hope that she would grow to accept him if he forced his way through with her when she had nerves and a will of steel? And war had forced them into this strange mess of alliances and even stranger, forced encounters, who was he to insist that they continued after the war had ended?

"It doesn't matter what I choose to do with my life," she replied mutely, "You have your beliefs on what's best, I have mine."

'So stuff it and stay out of my life,' he added silently for her.

Then he felt terribly helpless, and loneliness washed over him, making him wince in his pathetic state of mind.But he couldn't resist asking hesitantly, "Will you walk away from this and still-"

And he found that something had jammed in his throat and he was unable to continue.

But she looked at him and smiled wistfully and then she nodded, and he saw the unspoken words were the loudest. Her promise had held true. Hadn't it been the exact same spot that they'd awkwardly promised to be friends at least?

He heard her sigh, very, very softly, almost inaudibly, but he didn't say anything. Not yet.

"Why are you here anyway?" Shiho asked abruptly, staring into the distance where the grass was bending, subject to the wind's will.

"Dearka and I got drunk yesterday," he muttered unrepententantly, "We couldn't drive, so he made me camp in here for the night."

"Oh," she replied after a pause, "In a vacant room I suppose. Was it Barnet's?"

"Correct," Yzak replied dully, his eyes closing and reopening to stare at something he wasn't seeing properly, "I don't suppose Dearka would have been willing to give up his bed for me. In any case, I wouldn't want it, he was in a bad state last night."

"Is he going through some difficulty?" Shiho ventured to ask, her eyes filled with concern. Yzak tried very hard not to notice that she actually cared, although he felt a gash of jealousy somewhere. He swallowed a bit and replied a bit unsteadily, "Not quite. He was just looking for an opportunity to let the inner alcoholic out."

Shiho gave no indication that she had heard anything, her lips were arranged in a sort of grimace and frown all at once. She stretched a bit self-consciously, and Yzak asked helplessly, "Aren't you supposed to be working or training?"

"I''m on duty now," she retorted, checking a pocketwatch that she materialised from apparently nowehere, "I should be going to the hangars to test the new ZAKU models."

"New models," Yzak repeated, then his eyes narrowed, and he spoke harshly, "They are building new ones?"

"That's right," she answered soberly, her eyes avoiding his, "The top brass have requested for extra pulls on the limits of the Jachin Due Treaty so ZAFT can hold more mobile weapons. The move was made official by the High Council, so they've sent in a new blueprint of the ZAKUs."

'And it's your job to test them, not question if holding onto them is correct,' he added for both of them.

The tension hung in the air, stifling the strange, brief peace they had experienced just moments ago. Then she looked at him and asked softly, "Do you want to come along?"

"It's not legal," he reminded her,"I'm not acutally part of ZAFT if you want to go down to the papers and everything, I'm carrying Redcoat status but not part of the main ZAFT troops, so it would be a bit of a problem if I went to see the top new models and all that being developed. I don't suppose," he looked ruefully at her, scowling a little, "That those are the only ones being developed?"

She shook her head slowly, "Human nature decrees that every step of leeway results in a push for one more."

"Sure," he muttered under his breath, "Idiotic nature is always idiotic nature resurfaced.'

"Come with me," Shiho said suddenly, her eyes fixed firmly on his, "You won't be seen as an intruder, and amongst ZAFT, the development isn't much of top-secret, classified information."

He found himself walking by her side, a strange duo they made, a raven haired girl and a silver haired person such as he, one in the colour of blood, one wearing a faded green. And both were survivors of the war, but neither of them had learnt to detect that they didn't need anybody except the very person who was walking by his or her side at the very instant when they agreed that friendship remained, but nothing more did.


	18. Chapter 18

I don't own GS/GSD, R&R please.

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Chapter 18 

Life moved on. Or rather, in Yzak's opinion, trudged on.

He sat in his ZAFT office, now in a white commander uniform, and he cursed the implications of wearing the uniform. There were the benefits, obviusly. Better food, check. Better bar drinks, check. Extra pay, check. More spacious training grounds, check. Nicer resume, check.

Then there were the downsides. Longer work hours, check. Gruelling training with idiots who asked what the difference was between an OS and MS was, check. One-to-one combat with soldiers that were more the skirt-chaser types than dedicated officers, check. And then the editing of the MS reports, well, mostly alright. As fate would have it, most of them were already edited by a senior officer, possibly Shiho Hahenfuss, her career was branching on well in the Test-Drive section. But there was some reshuffling of departments a month ago, and then some other senior officers were made to do the reports instead.

And Yzak Joule, Commander Joule for you, he thought bitterly, had to edit. Funny how the war made a redcoat become an editor of some sorts. He might have charged to the test-pilots' quarters to demand why the hell the report was so bad, until he remembered that his First Officer had personally written it. He half-wondered what Shiho might have said is she had read it, but then he hadn't seen her for three whole months since the last time they'd talked. And then he knew he was treading dangerous waters and forced his attention back onto Dearka, who was rocking his chair backwards and laughing at him.

"This," he said, gritting his teeth together so his voiced came out quite forced, "Is utter rubbish."

"Sure," Dearka offered easily, propping an elbow on Yzak's desk, and Yzak hissed like a feline and took a swipe at it.

His friend grinned, showing an even set of white teeth. "Sorry 'bout that, I always forget you hate elbows on your table."

"Damn right," Yzak bit fiercely, "And I want to bring us all back to the point that your report was, no, is utter rubbish."

Dearka laughed merrily and took the file from Yzak, or rather, wrenching it from the tight grip that Yzak had enclosed it under. He proceeded to flip through here and there, his eyes not really seeing what was underneath his line of vision, just darting here and there for posterity's sake. Then when he had flipped to the final page, Dearka issued a long, low whistle and looked admiringly at Yzak and said in awe, "You should quit ZAFT and become an editor. The report has miraculously ceased to suck, if you want the cold hard truth."

"Don't give me that crap," Yzak said sharply, "It's a miracle I found time to redo the ramblings you thrust in that document. The report on the ZAKU generation of MSes were due last week, Officer Elseman, you turned it in only yesterday. Your father would be horrified to see your tense errors, they were singularly abominable. The spelling was unique as well, unique in its atrocity."

"Oh, that," Dearka said cheerfully, although there was a strain somewhere in his smile now, "The computer's auto-check system was down. I know you've got some posh degree in linguistics, well, so do I, I have double of that, remember? And it's back to 'officer' now then, eh, Commander?"

The air was suddenly tense.

Running a hand through his silver hair, Yzak exhaled heavily and cracked his knuckles, more to break the silence than ease the tension in his fingers. Then he gazed at his friend and sighed inwardly. The problem with Dearka, he thought decidedly, was that he was too flippant about work like that. Granted, Dearka was an elite soldier in the truest sense of the word, his combat skills and piloting were far above an average soldier's, and his intelligence was singularly spectacular, but-

"Dearka," Yzak began, trying to make his tone less harsh, "You know I wasn't trying to put you down."

"Yeah," his friends said dismissively, waving his hand at an imaginary fly, "I don't mind the loss of elite status, actually, the redcoat thing was stifling when I wanted to get more than a couple of drinks. Of course, the redcoat status was good for impressing the ladies, but then again-"

He sighed, and then he opened his purple eyes and grinned at Yzak.

"Moving on," Yzak prompted sharply, he didn't want to know about Dearka's successful love life, he might actually punch the bugger there and then. Dearka never knew about anything that went on, up until now, he still imagined Yzak as an antisocial loner who never had a girlfriend to even dump.

The antisocial bit might have been true, but then the lack of girlfriend bit was unfortunately not. In fact, the former trait somehow attracted numerous girls to him in school, the shy, meek kinds, no less, but Yzak was always too impatient for that sort of rubbish. Instead, he found better usage of his weekeneds, not dating the girls who sent him confession letters, but engaging in fierce sparring and riding horses with his old tutor, who was the family's educator and decidedly male in addition. Dearka always said that Yzak was good at hand-to-hand combat because he didn't know how to communicate otherwise, and sometimes, Yzak was inclined to think so too.

He watched his friend yawn a little and prod some papers idly. "Funny how choosing not to self-destruct or fight on for a nihilistic bastard like Le Creuset is equivalent to defection." Dearka ended carelessly.

"Watch it, straw-brain!" Yzak shot immediately, his eyes slitted and alert.

"Right," Dearka continued casually, still using a rather loud voice, "That ass's status as a nihilistic, mind you, nihilistic traitor being kept secret was for political reasons alright! I bet you, the Supreme Council just didn't want the Clyne Faction and then the whole of PLANT rallying outside screaming, "We told you so, innit?"

"Look,"Yzak said desperately, casting his eyes around to see if anybody was eavesdropping outside, they'd be a bloody pulp if anybody were, "You're a senior officer, my first officer, in fact, and then you've got a fat pay about the same as a redcoat's, save the lady-charming thing, of course. And then you've got the formal ranking usually saved for only the elite, and you've got the free flow of alcohol at the bar for only redcoats as well, so shut up already so that we can keep our damned jobs!"

"Right," Dearka said thoughtfully, "The free flow of drinks is good, glad I got at least that after fighting my sorry behind off for the nihilistic traitor that little bastard turned out to be. Like I always say, shit happens."

Then he stood up abruptly and saluted and marched off.

Yzak watched with a mixture or reluctant admiration and some amusement for his friend. Dearka was always like that. Then his eye fell on the report that he had spent two hours of blood and pain going through, and he hollered after Dearka, "Where are you going now?"

"Dinner with Milly, she told me not to be late, so I'd best be going now, Commander!" Dearka called back happily.

Curling his fist into a tight ball, Yzak tried not to scream something rude after his friend. That would have been useless, his friend had this thing he christianed as 'selective hearing' and then Dearka was swift with comebacks, possibly swifter than anyone in the fleet.

And if Dearka was going off to dinner, that left him, Yzak, more or less alone. Not that he minded, Yzak added to himself very quickly, having a little less of a crazed person around was a good thing.

His home was empty too, it was coming to a year since the war had ended, and the house-arrest on Ezalia Joule was promptly forgotten after the last few months had passed. He had watched with silent amusement as his mother dressed up and sent for the chauffeur to bring her shopping with some other old friends and acquaintances. Once, he had even seen Eileen Canaver arriving at their doorstep in a splendid gown and his mother moving off with her for some dinner amongst their circle of friends. It was to be expected of course, the Joule House was highly influential, not to mention affluent, so the circle of acquaintances was large. And as for his mother's house arrest, well, he never brought that up after his mother had gone to Coppernicus to shop for groceries or something to that effect.

In either case, the house had only the servants, and they kept out of his way. His mother wasn't around most of the time, she was like a bird set free from the cage, she only returned to it after a while and even then, he caught glimpses of her only rarely, since he was in camp most of the time. They hadn't spoken much after he had warned her to keep out of his affairs, an event which made him squirm inwardly. She wasn't cold to him or anything, in fact, she looked happier than ever, strange, since the Diamini affair had been a complete fiasco.

And house leave wasn't common for a commander, not even in times of peace. His quarters in the grounds were sufficient and frankly, almost in the terms of 'luxurious', so Yzak didn't complain much either.

But just for tonight, he'd go home for a while, maybe in the morning, he'd go for horseriding.

He fetched his coat, and then he looked around to find his car where he usually parked it. With a pounding in his ears, he noted it was all but empty, save for Dearka's motorbike, with a note tied to its handle, "If you feel like going home today, you can use this bike, the keys I already left in your office. I borrowed your car, so take it as I owe you bigtime."

Screaming in rage, Yzak kicked the bike and bellowed, "Damn right you do!'

He marched back to the office and glared at some offending bridge officers who were talking and laughing too loudly, and they stiffened into a salute immeidately. His heels clicked furiously as Yzak rushed down to his office, and then he swung the door open and flipped on the light, cursing freely until he spotted the keys where Dearka had sat, and he swiped it furiously and slammed the door shut, in a dark mood.

"He better not scratch the car," he muttered bitterly, and he swung his leg over the bike, keeping his balance as he tied the helmet over, willing himself not to track Dearka down and shake him in front of his date.

Then suddenly, he noticed, in the midst of all his cursing and foul language, Shiho was standing in front of him, not saying anything, but merely staring. He was alert, immediately, and a bit shakened, he snapped scathingly, "What do you want?"

"Nothing," she answered offhandedly, "I was wondering if you were keen on a drink. You'll pay for your own, of course, I don't have extra change on me."

He stared at her, as if she had asked him if he were having an affair with his best friend who was regrettably male like him.

"On a normal day," Shiho said to nobody in particular, "I'd say silence means consent. But today, I'll take that as a no.So good evening, Commander, and if it helps right after Officer Elseman stole your keys, nice bike."

She turned around, he caught sight of the pink bow riding on the ends of her long dark hair again, and called hurriedly, "I'll take you on that offer!"

He watched her turn around slowly, and then he caught a glimpse of an upturning of her soft lips, and then he knew she had smiled at, no, for him.

"Bar then?" Yzak offered a bit awkwardly, sliding the helmet off and getting of Dearka's vehicle, "I suppose there wouldn't be a point going home with a contraption like this."

He looked at the bike very bitterly.

She laughed, the sort of sound that surprised him. It was like listening out for the rain and hearing an ocean instead, and then Yzak realised that he hadn't heard her laugh much before. She'd chuckle now and then, but that was it, her laughter was weak, a sort of mewling sound and a bit of a bell's chime in it, but he was taken ahold by it.

Then she noticed how he was silent and quickly stopped and tilted her head to the direction of the soldiers' favourite weekend haunts. "We'll go then."

As they trudged along, Yzak didn't offer to take the box of things she was holding with both arms. She was hugging it tightly, and it was selaed with warning tapes, and from the looks of it, he wouldn't dare ask her what the box held. They didn't speak even as they walked there, it was a long walk, especially since the ZAFT grounds spanned for miles, but then it was the sort of silence Yzak didn't mind, liked, even.

As he settled down on a seat opposite her, a few of his subordiantes sat down with them too. Six altogether, Yzak counted,his eyes sweeping over them.

"Yzak," Keye, his Second Officer asked merrily, "You were planning to get drunk tonight, weren't you?"

He was about to snap at the young man and tell him to take note of ranks, nobody called him by first name when they were on duty, not even Dearka, but then he remembered with a jolt, that they weren't on duty. So he sighed a little and answered a bit unwillingly, "No, I wasn't planning to. What made you think so anyhow?"

"Lucky guess," the youth grinned, and he clinked his glass together with Yzak's and drained the liquid completely. Yzak couldn't help smiling ruefully at him, Keye Sanders was almost like Dearka, very bright and efficient, but mostly only when he wanted to be, and he was inconsistent in that charming way that the ladies always squealed over. Yzak didn't mind that Keye had about a hundred female acquaintaces as long as the report was handed in on time, so Keye had always looked up to Yzak Joule.

"Sybil," Yzak said very suddenly, causing another subordinate to choke a little on her drink, he had never addressed her by her first name. She looked at him with wide eyes and stammered, "Y-yes?"

"I've been meaning to ask," he continued thoughtfully, "How's your daughter now?"

"Good, good," Sybil Wasser replied hastily, setting her drink down a bit nervously, "I wanted to thank you for speaking to the uppers for early leave that day, but I couldn't until now. She's better now, nasty bout of flu and fever, but I got home and sent her straight to bed."

He waved her thanks away, partially to hide his own embarrassment, and she started talking to another soldier about some miscellaneous training scehdule. And their counter was a bustle of noise, just like the rest of the bar, except that he felt strangely isolated from it all. Not that he was isolated, he was holding more conversations there than he had for a whole year, but then his eyes kept darting to her. She was still clutching the box on her lap, taking sips of her drink, apple juice, he noticed wryly, alcohol wasn't her cup of tea then. She answered some questions politely, if not impersonally, and there were a few youths who tried to be cordial and strike converstaions with her. He was tempted to foil their attempts, but he stopped himself in time, he had no business minding hers.

Then an officer sidled up to him and asked slyly, "Did your mother get you the whitecoat status?"

Yzak whipped around, to see who had spoken. Suddenly, the whole counter was quiet, and it was isolated from the rest of the area which hadn't detected anything.

"I'm Hurde Lufterwaft," the officer offered nonchalantly, he was quite young, probably a new recruit. And Yzak noticed that his nose was very straight, his eyes were blue and his hair was honey-blonde. 'Nice looks', Yzak thought scathingly, 'Pity I might be inclined to rearrange them.'

"You better take back what you just said, Officer," Keye said sharply, suddenly ignoring the pretty bridge officers next to him for once, they were all nodding in agreement at what he had said, their attention focused on the newcomer.

"That's right," another subordinate chimed in response, "The Commander is to be respected, and I don't see why a pipsqueak like you who just joined should try and screw with him."

There were murmurs of assent

"Correct," Sybil said fiercely, "Don't just say stupid things like that Lufterwaft, you've got styrofoam for brains."

They all looked nervously at Yzak, hoping their verbal abuse on the offender had mollified him. He was still drinking, leaning back in his seat, watching those around him. Shiho was sitting upright, hugging the box on her knees to her chest, and her eyes were hidden by her bangs.

"I heard some nasty things about the Commader Joule," the boy continued in a forced show of bravado, "You're only eighteen, but you're a Commander. And you killed a whole shipful of civillians just for fun, didn't you? And not that I mind, because that shows power, doesn't it?"

"Stop," Keye said warningly, and he put his drink down sullenly. The bridge girls looked impressed.

Some people in the other counters were turning to look, but the general noise of the place was still high and not many noticed anything.

"W-what'd I say wrongly?" Lufterwaft asked laughingly, his eyes panicked at the situation, but he pressed on foolisly, "I entered ZAFT and I wanted to know more about the Commander. I mean, his mother's under hosue arrest, and then he's made a commander and all? Not that his credentials have some problem or anything, but I mean, come on, isn't that ridiculous? And you killed those civilians, how'd that feel?"

Keye had leapt at the boy in the next instant and was holding him by the collar, clenching it in his fist and hissing, "You don't know when to give it a rest!"

The bar was still noisy and people were calling for drinks here and there, and Keye gave a final glare at the soldier and made as if to throw a punch at him, but somebody got there first.

And Yzak stared in shock as Shiho's fist connected straight with the soldier's jaw and her dark hair swung before Yzak's face. Her box had dropped to the floor as she had sprung up, and as the sound of the contact of her fist and the jaw was made, a smash of glass was heard. Suddenly, the whole place was quiet, and the soldier looked up in shock, an ugly welt at the side, and screamed, "You whelp! I'll kill you!"

He scrambled free from Keye's hold, pushed over the table with all the galss drinks, all just to get to Shiho, and he leapt at her, hurling curses and abuse. He flew at her in a rage and she froze, as far as Yzak could see, she froze, her eyes wide in shock at what the soldier was making to do and what she had just done.

And there was a second smashing of glass as the soldier scrambled everywhere, throwing their glasses down, trying to pull the frenzied soldier off Shiho, and there were random punching sounds as the rest of the bar hurried in to help out. Some contributed in the fiasco by punching people they'd always wanted to have a go at, and the semi-drakness was to their advantage here. Yzak, enraged like he had never been before, sprung up, and shoved and elbowed his way into the mass of entagled limbs and angry people. He spotted what he'd been looking for in the darkness and grabbed hold of the soldier, and then he yanked the person upright and quite forcefully, off Shiho, he heard her gasp, and then Yzak punched him right in the face.

He had knocked the soldier out completely, the youth stiffened and fell unconcious, in an unruly heap to the floor.

"Move," Yzak ordered, and the people around stepped back and revealed Shiho lying on her side. There was a gash at her forehead, and Yzak recalled the piece of glass the soldier was gripping, and he cursed angrily. The blood was dripping down her cheek, and she was wincing, her eyes closed, as if she were still expecting blows.

Some soldiers standing around were bruised up quite badly. Funny, Yzak thought detachedly, they weren't even part of the brawl.

Those remaining around Shiho got up and moved away too, there was a path in the huge crowd for Yzak to walk through, and he strode to her form.

"Officer Hahenfuss," Yzak asked carefully, "Can you get up?"

She made no move, her hair was strewn all over her face, he could only see part of it and the deep gash. Her hands were bleeding to, she'd scratched them on the broken glass on the floor and the fingers were trembling slightly.

"I think she's in shock," Keye offered helpfully, stepping in a bit.

"Thanks, Officer," Yzak said sarcastically, "I couldn't see that."

"Oh," Keyes said, instantly falling silent.

He knelt down to her and moved her hair away from her face, she winced involuntarily and he said gently, more gently than anyone expected, "Can you stand for me?"

She opened her eyes and closed them abruptly, blinded by the sudden light that someone in the bar, had thankfully had the sense to put on. Then she opened them very slowly and sat up steadily enough, and he saw that her neck was bleeding too.

"Damn," somebody in the audience cursed.

"I'll get her back to the barracks," Yzak said, his tone final, and he glanced around, as if daring anyone to disagree, "Keye, you be in charge of the cleaning up. And that soldier," he cast his eyes darkly on the unconscious form that some had taken liberties in kicking while he had been attending to Shiho, "We'll let the upper brass deal with him."

"Right-o", Keye echoed, and then he shouted commandingly, "Alright, Friday fun's over, clean-up, you there! Get a broom, no make that two! You, yes you, don't sneak off, we can see you, damn it! Get me a rag, and the bunch of you over there, you can usher the other soldiers back, and the Joule team? I trust all of you are around?"

"Yes sir?" some voices here and there demanded eagerly.

"We'll take care of this ass," Keye ended darkly, poking the fallen soldier with his toe.

"Affirmative!" the whole bar shouted. Yzak Joule was feared even when he was the Commander Joule for three short months, but the respect for him wasn't to be looked down upon either. He had his allies, he had his friends, and those in the bar fit into either of the two categories.

They looked around in triumph to see Yzak's reaction, but he was already out of the bar, one of Shiho's arms around his neck, and one of his own hugging around her shoulders as she limped, dripping blood here and there.

The noise of the bar and the doors behind them grew fainter and fainter until they heard no more.

"Alright there?" he asked gruffly, trying to match her pace as she stumbled a bit. Her eyes were semi-closed, and she had a sort of frown and grimace on.

She cursed softly, under her breath.

"It hurts of course," he managed, trying to sound as concerned as he felt, but then he was always poor at that sort of thing.

"Not as much as my pride," she offered wryly, "Nothing beats the disgrace of starting a fight and not being able to finish it because of some glass cuts."

"Don't make them sound so trivial," Yzak ordered angrily, "Those are deep, I failed the medic course, but I can see that at very least."

She glanced at him, her pace slowed, and some blood slid down her cheek, "You failed the medic course?"

He pressed her onwards, unwilling to let her slow down because he didn't like seeing the blood down the side of her face like that. Then he realised that Shiho was silent, a sort of questioning silence, and he sighed and conceded.

"Alright," Yzak replied unhappily, "I failed that one. And Athrun tied top with Miguel in that course, happy?"

"Why'd you hate Athrun Zala so much," Shiho asked amusedly, allowing him to pull her arm righter around his neck, "When you admire him the way you do?"

"He's too-"Yzak began, and then he coloured and changed the topic rapidly.

"Shiho," he said softly, "Why did you punch the man when you knew Keyes was already going to?"

She was silent as they limped on, a curious pair they made, one in blood-red, dripping blood onto another in pure white and staining him her colour. She closed her eyes, feeling remarkably weary and ashamed at her lack of control, and then she found the words she had been searching for.

"I suppose I had enough of the things he was saying," Shiho muttered, "I thought that if he was going to have a go at you, then I might have a go at him too. After all, you can't, you're a commander now, they might say you're bullying a new recruit."

He raised his eyebrows, but she didn't look at him.

"And if you're a redcoat," he walked them forward, "No accusations of bullying otherwise?"

"Not really," she conceded, "Just worse if you're a commander. But the things he said, they-"

She was cut off as he unhooked the arm she had around his neck and forced her to face him, and he pressed a finger on her lips, ignoring the blood that smudged his fingers.Her heart was racing and she swallowed hurriedly as his face moved closer to hers, now barely inches away.

"What?" she asked, hating the voice that came out in a sort of choked whisper.

"I forgot to ask," he said ruefully, his cheeks somewhat crimson, "Where're your quarters?"

Shiho stared, and then she realised they had walked aimlessly for a bit, and she sighed and looked around.

"That direction," she offered, trying not to chortle at Yzak's folly, and he threw her arm around his neck again and ploughed off with her in tow, determinedly avoiding any embarrasing questions after that.

* * *

Author's note: 

Right! I had a horrid flu and fever this week, so sorry about those lack of updates until now! I hope you readers liked this chapter, I liked the bar-brawl bit personally, I always associate Yzak with bar brawls, he makes me think of that sort of stuff. Anyway, R&R please!


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD, but that means I get to play around with the characters, no? Please R&R!

* * *

Chapter 19 

"Nice place you got here," Yzak remarked dryly.

It wasn't.

He had suspected that she was quite neat, and that was accurate, the place was in order, but considering that she had lived here for quite some time, it was nothing more than a bunk. He spotted a bed in a corner, well-made, but the covers were thin and the pillow was distressingly un-fluffy. He shrugged, maybe she liked it that way. She was a no-frills sort of person, that he'd have guessed as much.

But the curtains were faded, clean, yes, but their colour was so worn he could scarcely imagine what they had looked like before this. The sheets looked as if they had offended her by existing, they had been carelessly sewn in the corners where they had long ripped, as if she didn't mind sleeping in cloths close to, but not quite, rags.

"I supposed you don't like it too stuffy and hot when you sleep." He inquired this with a cynical overtone. She looked around, as if she was seeing the place for the first time, but then she ignored his comment.

Her books dominated most of the room, and shelves of wires and parts here and there made him think of the laboratories Shiho spent most of her life in. Yzak glanced around more, he spotted a wardrobe there, the kind assigned to those who lived in the ZAFT quarters permanently. From its size, it probably held only her uniforms.

He was so caught on staring, that he didn't realise the woman draped around his neck, his arm supporting her, was trying to shake free from his hold. If he did, he might have noticed that the pressure applied to her wound was increasing due to his lack of attention and the heavy-hold on her.

Then Shiho grunted in pain, and he immediately realised he had been pressing against her neck, which was sporting two or three plum bruises and three ugly gnashes.

"Sorry," he apologised quickly, bringing her to a couch and sitting her on the furthest end so that he could sit too, "I forgot-"

"Pass me those," Shiho cut in emotionlessly, pointing at some unopened capsules at the table, and he did as he was told. She sat tensely at the edge, breathing shallow, quick breaths, and he was mesmerised by the way she closed her eyes as if the world was coming in too close on her.

'That about sums it up,' He thought sardonically.

He ran a finger gently across her cheek, not exactly aware of what he was doing, and her eyes snapped open like he had stabbed her in her gut, and she instinctively jerked his hand away and then realised what she had done.

His eyes had widened at the sudden movement, and he stared at her, not so much in shock at her reaction, but more of his action.

"Sorry," He managed, somewhat gutturally. He felt like a barbarian then, uncounth, uncultured, all that he hadn't been brought up to be. Or maybe, that was intrinsically what Yzak Joule was. Competitive, anger-filled, aggressive, all those traits he was sure Shiho abhorred, if not, loathed with a passion.

She cleared her throat awkwardly and leant back, relaxing once more. He saw a little tension lift away from her shoulders and felt a tad relieved.

"No matter."

Her voice was flat and hesistant, but he sensed something more in it, more than hesitation. Uncertainty, perhaps.

She lifted the pills up, unfazed by the blood on her fingers and smashed the plastic open, then she popped the pills straight down without water. He knew those were painkillers, he had used those before.

"Don't you need water?" he asked in amazement. Those were about as sweet as his nature on a raging day.

"Oh, right," Shiho replied absently, "I forgot."

But she showed no sign of tasting bitterness, her face held little expression at all.

He shook his head and fetched it instead and she gulped it down the way she had done for the pills. He didn't see why she needed water, she probably could swallow it down without much difficulty. Then he recalled that he was supposed to clean her up and he asked brusquely, "You have a first aid kit, don't you?"

"There," she said pointing behind, "I'll get it myself, don't bother."

She started towards it but he yanked her back down and she half-mewled in protest. He felt something recalling the way her arms had been entwined around his neck and cursed loudly. He instantly regretted his action, but she was, nonetheless, unfazed.

"Don't be ridiculous," Yzak interrupted sharply, "You might as well tell me to go right now, since you can clean those wounds for yourself or something, You said it was behind, didn't you? Well I-"

He yanked the drawer open, and he darted aside as the shower of papers erupted upon his head.

"Damn!"

Yzak had cursed for the eighteenth time that night, if one bothered to make a quick calculation, that is. He always held his tongue in front of the superiors, forced nature, he liked to call it, but when he was with women too, he'd hold his tongue, he'd refrain from using coarse language that Dearka and Athrun were prone to being the target of. Something in the Houses had trained their heirs to treat women respectfully, open doors for them, pull out chairs, bow, kiss the hand as a formal greeting, all that.

Funny how it never applied to Shiho Hahenfuss.

Shiho cursed too, perhaps she was rubbing off him too much, and stood up unsteadily, then she hobbled over and pulled the pieces from the air like she was plucking them out of nowhere.

"I told you not to bother," Shiho snapped, her tone was as flinty as stone, and she moved around, gathering them up and stacking them against the side violently, as if they had offended her. There was a scrabbling somewhere around, he picked that up immediately, some rat or something, but he ignored it. His blood was beginning to boil, and his face was stained crimson in his terrible hurt and rapid anger.

"Fine!" he cried, enraged in a strangely childish sort of way, "You're alright now, aren't you? So I'll just go and-"

He forced his jaw shut, Yzak saw that she was still stuffing the papers away, and then he thought of the years she had spent here alone when they hadn't been off fighting in the war and he felt a pang of bitterness and regret. She was kneeling on the floor, her hair was covering the expression her eyes might have revealed, but other than that, he had already known that he had upset Shiho. He always managed to do that, didn't he?

Then Yzak glanced around, the room looked more barren and plain to him than ever, and he saw that she hadn't even framed her certificates and documents, she'd just put them in a folder at the side. His were framed and proudly hung in a hall of the Joule's achievements, hers were treated like mere pieces of paper, worth nothing more than the privilege of being kept at all.

"You-"

A pregnant pause filled the room, and she looked at him once, from where she was crouching on the floor, and then she looked somewhere else, biting her lip, not knowing what to say, not even sure if she would say it even if the right words were found.

There was an overt listlessness in the room that made Yzak feel suddenly very stiffled.

"Sorry," she said softly, "Just don't look around too much, not with those eyes at least. I might feel as if I don't belong here."

"You don't," he said fiercely, pulling her to her feet and staring at her pale face, "You are the head of the Hahenfuss House for Pete's sake, why don't you stay somewhere more befitting of you? You aren't subject to live in this state, not with your background, for God's grace at least, you were born a Lady!"

She was silent, and she looked away, staring at a fascinating spot of floor he didn't exactly find fascinating. He waited impatiently for her to respond, but when she didn't, he tired of her unresponsiveness and lack of attention towards him and strode closer. She didn't seem to notice him standing in front of her. Finally, Yzak growled in distaste and impatiently scooped her up, ironic for it to be bridal-style, he thought sarcastically. And he ignored her mewling protests, blocking all the sounds and more importantly, memories and thoughts, and dumped her, but not too roughly, on the couch.

"And stay there." He warned.

He proceeded to march stiffly to some obscure corner.

So she sat there, staring, now quiet at the ceiling, counting the stains on the walls, watching him fetch hot water and check the temperature with his hand, then nod to himself and take towels and the plasters and medicine. And ignoring the ache in her chest didn't make it go away or any less painful.

"Look, Hahenfuss," Yzak said finally, sitting next to her, and then he hissed and cupped her neck, forcing her to violet to meet vivid sapphire. She might have gasped at the burn of the contact, but something was jammed in the throat and the ache grew steadily in her chest.

"You may not be aware of this, redcoat stauts and all," he began, " But as Commander, I'm requesting for a test-pilot in my team. Officer Wasser's retiring from ZAFT, she informed me a week ago, seems that her family's more importnat than her career she cited, so I gave the green light. And you know as well as I do that Sybil's position is quite high up there, I requested for someone of similar standing and experience, and your department head offered , well, who'd you think they'd offer anyway?"

"Me."

Yzak glared at her, she became unbearably aware that his hand was still cupping her neck and forcing her to maintain eye-contact. "That was rhetorical. In any case, you're going to be working under me, and with a history like-"

He trailed off, unsure of what to say next. He wasn't even sure if they had a history, sure, he'd been interested at one point, but she sure as hell hadn't been, then the war had ended and that was that, he hadn't hoped to see much of her either. There was the other fiance which he had frightened off, and then now he was back with the military and she was going to be under him.

'And they say shit happens,' he thought bitterly.

Grabbing the warm, moist towel, he rubbed it over her cheek, making sure the dried blood came off well. She closed her eyes, he was afraid he had hurt her by using too much force, but apprently, that hadn't been the case, she was just tired. He took the medicine and murmured in a low, deep voice, "Don't scream, I might strangle you."

"I won't," she promised in a tiny voice, and then she felt the sting of the disinfectant and medicine bite into the wound and she bit the insides of her cheek. Then his fingertips, smooth and cool, brushed gently over the area as he slid a plaster over the scratch and when she forced open her eyes, he hadn't let go of her face, and he was again, less than inches away.

But then he suddenly turned back with the towel and dabbed at her neck the way he had done for her forehead and he leant over and doused those wounds with alcohol too. It hurt, but she couldn't bear to say anything, she knew he was disturbed and edgy, maybe the failing of the medic course had rattled his confidence in such things. But Yzak did a fine job, he finished off with the last of the plasters and stood up, unexpectedly taking a bit of warmth away as he moved and discarded the slightly bloody warm water in the basin.

She sat watching him, praying he would turn back and see that she wanted him to stay a while longer. She cursed how needy she was, how terribly unsound her judgements were. To pursue Yzak Joule was like chasing the wind. You could feel it, but you never knew if it really existed because of its transcience and ability to change and leave you empty and cold, behind where it would never return again.

Then he turned and made his way back to her, but he didn't sit down like he had when he had tended to her, or take her and look into her eyes, not that- not that she wanted him to, of course, that was understood, now he just looked coolly at her and offered, "I suppose I should wish us a good working relationship in the future, Officer."

"Claude Diamini," she interrupted, "Your mother chose her?"

"Yes," Yzak replied coldly, "You know she was a fiancee of mine, you've seen her once, I believe. Probably my mother's doing too, she ended the agreement your father and she had arranged that night, I believe."

Shiho's face was pale, but she answered readily. "I was called over by Lady Joule, that night, yes, she informed me about the- I saw Claude Diamini, so I doubt I didn't understand the agreement had ended after that. I wish you and Miss Diamini a-"

"She was a fiancee of mine, Hahenfuss," Yzak repeated roughly.

Her eyes widened, she questioned his tense. "Was?"

He grimaced, he looked as if he had been made to swallow something bitter. "I broke it off right after you left. Not Lady Joule, mind you, I did."

"But why?" Shiho cried sharply, "Didn't you-"

"I'm not interested in that sort of thing," Yzak said dismissively, more detached than he really felt about it, "I just didn't want my mother meddling in my affairs to that extent. I didn't know Diamini well enough to get hitched to her, life-saver or not, thanks."

"She saved your life in the court," Shiho echoed softly, "And your mother wanted her as your bride?"

"Don't make it sound like I'm some retarded child they draw lots to surrender a daughter to be his wife," Yzak snarled, "What I'm saying is that I don't like the damned woman, I like you-"

The words flew out of his mouth faster than he could stop them and he controlled the urge to kick something. Her head snapped up, she was gazing at him in astonisment, and her lips were parted in surprise.

"-better as a person." He ended lamely. He felt increasingly bitter. Maybe it was the place they were in.

The light in her eyes dimmed a little and she smiled a bit dully and said in response, "Thank you."

Impersonal, cool, all that he hadn't meant to hear. He cursed under his breath.

She gestured to her neck, and he asked her softly, "Why do you stay here? You could always go to somewhere that welcomes you better. The Joules have been friends with the Hahenfusses for four generations now, there's awlays a place at the Manor if you don't mind us.We've always been-been friends, haven't we?"

"You've changed, Commander," Shiho said decisively, evading his questions, "I always thought you were quite a spoilt brat, mind you, you still are, but you've always been quite kind under that acid wall."

He sat down abruptly. "Damn it, Hahenfuss, don't ignore my questions!"

"I don't want to rely on the Joule House," she said, her voice and face suddenly passionate, "I can live for myself."

"Living in a less-" he looked around the place, searching for a better word, and when he found none, he continued, "Living somewhere else wouldn't mean living any less for yourself. I'm offering you a chance to live somewhere better during your weekends, somewhere that is more beffiting to someone such as yourself, during your leave periods, of course." he supplied, "I too, live mostly in the ZAFT camp, soldier's calling and all that. I can make decisions regarding the Joule House, I'm eighteen now, I was legal since seventeen like all House Scions are, and the Head position was transferred over since my mother was palced under house arrest. So I'm offering you a better place to live."

"The Joule Manor?" she asked softly.

"What do you think?" Yzak questioned a hit anxiously, hopefully she wouldn't mind, they were friends after all and-

He waited, her silence was heartstopping.

Then he realised she had leant back and closed her eyes, like she was asleep.

Damned woman.

"That wasn't rhetorical!" Yzak growled, prodding her at the shoulder and she opened them, quite startled and then she looked over at him and smiled suddenly, nodding. He wanted to congratulate both of them for having made the right choice, but then it struck him that he was happy not because she was coming close to the Joule House, but because he was the Joule House now, and in effect, she was coming closer to him.

Then he quickly reminded himself not to be too taken with her. If he allowed that, he would be treading those waters again, hadn't he promised himself never to again?

"We'll make arrangements then," he said, would-be-casually, "And if you're worried about rumours, don't worry. Dearka comes over quite often when I make a trip back home, he says without him, there's no life in the manor. Besides," he cast a dark look around the bunk, "my mother's living in a summer home outside Aprilius City, she won't be inclined to rush home to see how we're all doing. In the meantime, put up with this bunk, although I personally wouldn't much less for all these years like what you've been tolerating for so long."

He spied something running around in the corner and hissed in rage.

"Bloody rats," he shouted, completely missing Shiho's cry of, "Oh, that's-!"

And he proceeded to pull the old newspapers off it, but came face to face with a grey kitten that hissed at him and took a wild swipe or two at the umbrella he had pulled from the side.

They watched the kitten puff itself up into a defensive position and he turned, slowly, to face Shiho and said helplessly, "You know it's a breach of conduct to hide a pet in the ZAFT quarters, don't you?"

She stood up and swiftly pulled him away.

"Pretned you didn't see," she said forcefully, "Never mind that rat, Commander, you didn't see anything, it's just the imagination going wild after those alcoholic drinks-"

"I had pear juice!" Yzak roared.

"Well, those blows must have gone to your head a little too hard and-"

"I was untouched, in fact, I was the one doing the punching!" he yelled.

"And generally if you don't say what you saw, then they won't know and, oh crap just-"

She hurriedly tried to shove him out of the room and shut it, but he blocked it well with his foot by jamming it in between. She was still trying to press it shut, but then the silence that was met from him caused her to cease her actions and look up, slowly, at him. The rather dim, greenish light that was emitted from her room seemed to be lost far, far behind her, as he reached in, and pulled her out so she stood before him.

"What is it?" she hastened to say unsurely. She briefly wondered if he could read through her and see what her eyes held.

'For both our sakes,' Shiho prayed, 'Don't say anymore. Don't come closer. Don't move.'

He leant in closer and she detected a slight scent that reminded her to think of basil. She tried to speak and then found that she couldn't.

"I believe in fair exchange."

His voice was as gentle as the way he had cupped her neck moments ago. Simply put, it wasn't.

Then he lifted his fingertips to her forehead where a plaster was now arranged, and now, the touch was gentle, light, like a butterfly's wing against her, but it was swift to come and swift to go.

And while she remained speechless, and quite regrettably unromantic in her stoic stance, he turned and smirked a little and left.

He had that sort of smug epxression whenver he defeated his enemeis, she knew that, and she had always hated that sureness and deftness and lust to win and conquer in a man otherwise as honourable as he. But now, it meant something else. And she found herself moving dazedly back, picking up the kitten he had discovered she was hiding, and hugging it close to her.

It mewled in protest, scratched her, and ran to hide. She looked at her hand blankly, and thought of Yzak, he who hated to be loved but never forgot how to love as strongly as he could experience hatred.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD. R&R Please!

* * *

Chapter 20

In the morning, Dearka came to his office and passed him the car keys dutifully, like a child that was bringing his homework to his parent for inspection, and Yzak got up and said calmly, "Why, thank you, Dearka. If you hadn't taken those keys, I might have never been able to-"

He stopped the smile that was threatening to take control of his facial muscles.

The night's events had been surprising, to say the least. And Yzak realised he still hadn't broken the habit of glancing out of the window to capture a glimpse of the field where Shiho had once sat with him.

And then he cursed out loud and quite desperately.

Dearka merely looked puzzled.

Dumbass.

"We're going back to the manor tonight," Yzak declared, "Your parents will be happy I'm getting you out of their way by making you get in mine. I expect a bouquet that expresses their gratitude any time now, and make sure it doesn't contain violets. I hate those."

He watched the smile erupt onto Dearka's face, Dearka loved company and when Yzak was keen to provide it, it made his friend's day. Of course, his friend didn't catch the later words. Yzak would have never said those if he wasn't quite so sure that Dearka wouldn't catch them.

Ted Elseman was getting on in his years, unlike his son, in terms of mentality, Yzak thought wryly. There was something about the Coordinator genes that weren't totally perfect, or the youth would have been eternal. Coordinators, in general, aged gracefully, Ezalia Joule would be a perfect example of that, or even Siegel Clyne. But Ted Elseman, he was a different case. Of course, Dearka had always blamed the war for digging the trenches in his father's face that were manifesting more clearly than ever. The aging had begun the day war had erupted. But sometimes, to try and forget, Dearka would laugh and say that it was having a son like him that made Ted Elseman tire easily.

"I can help cook," Dearka offered brightly, "I know how to make a mean-"

"We have servants for that," Yzak cut in quite rudely, "And Officer Hahenfuss is not used to your egg-shell ridden omelettes."

"Oh, then we'll have to make her accustomed to-," his friend's eyes widened at the abrupt realisation, "Say what?"

He sat up straighter in his chair, far more alert than when Yzak had told him to handle the extra cases and finish his paperwork properly for once in the hell of work ZAFT doled out every week.

'Here comes the bomb', Yzak thought dolefully and he sighed and recited carelessly, "As you know, House history has dictated long-standing relationships between the Elsemans, Joules, and some others, one of which is the Hahenfuss House. Anyway, you know Shiho Hahenfuss quite well," he continued meaningfully and quite darkly at a puzzled Dearka, "She'll be coming over to the Joule Manor whenever we do. Or should I say, I do. After all, it's my house and she'll be living in it too."

"Rich bastard," Dearka said cheerfully, quite forgetting that his family was more affluent than Yzaks' in terms of liquid assets, "Poor girl's been having it hard here, she could do with less engine oil and more contact with humans."

He looked thorughly excited about the prospect of having female company in the weekend trip to the Joule Manor, and Yzak felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck rising in sheer irritation. But he forced the rising ire down, he had better things to think about. Dearka was grinning toothily, ear to ear. If he hadn't been the uniform which somehow instilled some form of discipline in the free-spirited man, then Yzak would have bet that Dearka would have done the foxtrot there and then.

Bastard.

"Whatever," Yzak said flippantly, "And now that you're here, we can all go. I hope the car's intact."

"Sure," Dearka said, looking a little hurt at the lack of trust, "I have a driver's license you know, I drive better than you, the driving test score says so."

Yzak grit his teeth and hollered, "The only reason why I scored three points less than you in that proficeincy test was because I lost my temper and tried to run down that stupid mutt that got in my way! How was I to know that the mutt was part of the test?"

He stormed out, fuming with black, a chortling Dearka trailing in his wake of fury. Some soldiers scooted out of the way, like fishes well aware that the shark was coming. But one stood in his way, and Yzak effectively trampled on the very person he had been seeking- Shiho Hahenfuss.

She dropped the box she was holding, and he heard the tinkle of glass, for the second time in less than forty-eight hours. Last night, she had dropped the same box, and now, he had caused her to do it again. Whatever that was in there, if it had a life, it would have gladly voodooed the Commander Joule.

"In a hurry?" She asked testily, getting up after a moment's pause and finally accepting the hand the howling Dearka had cheerfully offered.

"Not particularly," Yzak retorted with some effort. His face was well-controlled, no twitching muscle, no blotchy berry colour on his pale skin, but his ears, thank the heavens they were covered by his hair, those were red to the very tips.

Shiho merely gazed over at him, scrutinising him the way he had often watched her doing for the test pieces, and he felt incredibly uncomfortable. A minute later, however, she merely inclined her head, and he took it as the signal to move on.

Dearka was silent for once, but Yzak wasn't as glad as he thought he would have been. And for some reason, he was even more irritated. although he courageously fought the urge to strangle a female bridge officer for reasons they would have deemed non-valid- for looking too cheerful and laughing too loudly.

They got into the car and pulled Shiho along with them, meeting little resistance and even lesser effort to converse. She carried a small bag with her, some clothes and some books, he presumed. As time went by, she would bring more things with her and settle in at the Manor. Deep down, Yzak suspected that his mother had stationed a lookout back at the house, and he was determined to protect Shiho's privacy at least. His mother had interferred with her once, but not a second time. Not as long as he was still considered the Lord of his House, and even if he wasn't, Yzak Joule'd still have his way.

Some soldiers stared as the unlikely trio roared past, and some explained to the others that the Houses, well, the more important ones anyway, always had their allies and their sort of things like that. In any case, Yzak wasn't too bothered by it, neither was Dearka. When Nicol had been around, he had often joined them too. Athrun, on the other hand, usually went to the Clyne's residence. That sort of thing had been the norm in the old days.

"Shiho," Dearka said pleasantly, "What do you think of Lady Joule?"

Yzak kept his eyes on the road. The scenery was changing, from the congested, building-strewn area to a quieter, more placid backdrop. It did wonders for his mood.

"She's in a class of her own," Shiho answered respectfully, her eyes were sincere but her voice was cold. Strange mix, Yzak thought, perhaps she had lost the ability to open up after Steiner Hahenfuss had passed on, she always sounded concerned in a disconnected way. The only time when he had heard emotion in her voice was when she had tried to lie about the cat she hid. It had been urgent and mildly agitated, but otherwise, quite normal. Strange girl.

Perhaps he had spent too much time with explosives and acquired some of the traits. And for her, it was possible that Shiho Hahenfuss had acquired the lack of emotion the machines she loved all invariably had.

"She is, aint' she? Lady Joule is really something, that silver hair and blue eyes makes her look regal and all," Dearka echoed insightfully, "Very stunning woman, very intelligent too. Well, you've got to be if you want to go shopping in Coppernicus while being technically under house arrest."

Only he chortled, Yzak just grimaced and Shiho had no expression, although the corner of her mouth twitched slightly. Dearka soon realised that his joke fell a little flat and glanced around to confirm this.

The silence was growing awkward.

"Moving on," Dearka said hurriedly, "I suppose you were Yzak's playmate, weren't you?"

"I never played," Yzak cut in sharply, ignoring the flashes of the ball games he had engaged in with the other children, those screamed, 'Liar liar pants on fire!"

He was absolutely against Dearka finding out that he had met Shiho as a child, and how their history ran deeper than what most people expected. And all this was for good reason, at least in Yzak's own opinion. Dearka might start to suspect something underlying their current situation, and then that'd drag out something else they'd shared during the war, and really, Yzak wasn't all too keen for that.

He wasn't sure about Shiho, but for now, he wanted all things to remain unsaid.

"Don't lie now, Yzak," Dearka grinned, "I went horseriding with you every weekend at a certain point. I know they tried to let Athrun be your friend but you bit him, and you bit and didn't let go until he couldn't cry anymore. Something about you not feeling up to the little tyke's standard of intellect and hairstyles that made yours pale in comparision to that midnight-do the girls went crazy over."

"Shut up!" He roared. The car swerved a little.

"Steady now, steady now," Dearka said hurriedly, as if talking to his horse, "Anyway, Shiho, you haven't answered the question."

"I met Yzak when I was a child, yes," she said calmly, "But I left for December City quite soon after that, I only saw him again in ZAFT. So we weren't playmates.Frankly, I recall almost nothing of Yzak until I enlisted in ZAFT."

So she didn't want him to know either. He glanced at her in the review mirror, but she had hidden her eyes with her long-swept hair. Once again, slight disappointment and irritation rose like a plague in his chest, if she was going to be his accomplice in the lie they were living, then at least let him know what she thought. But she chose to hide it, and he could do nothing.

"Sad," Dearka offered thoughtfully, "You might have seen a younger, more innocent Yzak."

He caught the blue-ice glare that was shot at him, and hastily added, "Well, more innocent than he is now anyway. I believe there's an elderly maid in the Joule House who is positively terrified of Yzka's ability to snap, literally. He bit her at an early age, quite promising a boy he already was."

He laughed causally, and Yzak sighed. He wished the car would swallow Dearka, kill the man next to him and use him as fuel.

"I wish I'd met him as a child," Shiho said suddenly, and the two pairs of eyes in the front flew to the review mirror to meet hers,"I'm sure he'd be someone worth knowing."

Yzak clamped his jaw shut. A bead of sweat slid happily, down his forehead, at the side of his cheek, and he cursed under his breath. Blatant lies, all these they were both telling, drawn into their own abyss they'd created. He wondered if the secret would be brought to deep earth in their graves, he hoped it would, he prayed it would.

"He is now, anyway," Dearka said airily, "And so are you. Generally, most people are, just that Lord Joule here," he looked nastily at Yzak, "Didn't give poor five-year-old Athrun Zala a chance to be nicer than what the man already is even now, and promptly bit him upon deciding that he was a competitor of some sorts. I believe they've harboured some distrust of each other since then, or not distrust, not exactly that either, I wouldn't know what you'd call that. A love-hate relationship perhaps?"

Silence.

"Or a case of once-bitten-twice-shy, but literally?" Dearka pressed on.

Silence, this time, it was a pained one.

Yzak peered at the review mirror to see her reaction.

"I noticed," Shiho replied drily. Her eyes were soft though, she looked like she wanted to laugh, although it had died before it could escape her lips, and Dearka smiled at this. Yzak sighed quietly and waited for the right moment to speak. And when he did, his tone was slightly irritated.

"Nobody wants to know about Athrun-bloody-Zala," Yzak snapped, finally breaking his celibacy of silence,"And we've arrived, so you can start unloading. I told the servants not to take our things, it's not like we're invalids or that sort of rubbish."

He stormed up the stairs of the mansion to get to the entrance, and Dearka whistled as a butler sprang forward and bowed as they passed by. As they passed a hallway, Dearka glanced behind and noted how Shiho was walking. She wasn't meandering around, lost in the house of behemoth propotions, instead, she had her eyes half-closed, as if she were recalling something Dearka wouldn't try to begin and understand.

But Dearka Elseman hadn't been made a Coordinator for nothing, his mind was involuntarily putting two and two together. And his mouth itched to ask a question or two, but he kept a firm check on it. Contrary to popular belief, Dearka was anything but a loose canon if the situation called for propriety. And this was one of those situations.

They paused presently; there was a boy who had been cleaning the windows far above them in the South Wing that served as a sort of miniature belltower. Yzak had never been up there more than ten times in his life and he had hated it from young, especially since he had watched his mother crying and praying there sometime when he was three or four. But as the years passed, he had never seen her set foot there, she was often to busy to evne come home, and he avoided the place like ithad a plague as well.

The servant was crouching at the window sill, humming a tune to himself, and Yzak noticed that he was very young, a child by Coordinator standards even. He paused to get a better look of the boy, he hadn't even seen him, possibly due to the lack of home leave and that sort of thing. And then the boy noticed he was being watched, and he turned around and spotted three faces, one grinning, one emotionless, and one stern.

The stern face, the ice-blue eyes, and the silver hair that glinted in the sun's rays made him yelp, "Lord Joule!"

And he promptly fell off the sill with a terrified scream.

Yzak cursed loudly, and he wasted no time in springing onto the railings as a sort of warped balancing pole, and then he leapt like a slim cat midway into the air, very beautifully arched in a sort of gymnast's stance, plucking the child from his descent , curling up into a ball while clutching the screaming child, and rolling hard onto the floor to brace the impact, but not after a painful 'thud' had first been made as they dropped down the long flight of stairs.

He could hear, from below, Dearka's shout of dismay, and Shiho's startled gasp, and then the sounds of their running footsteps trundled heavily up to him, and he was shook roughly by Dearka, until he opened his eyes and snapped irritably, "Stop shaking me!"

"Right," Dearka said hastily, snatching his hands away and holding them up in a mock-surrender position, "Sorry about that, I was alarmed."

Their attention was diverted to the child, still cradled in Yzak's arms. And then they all realised that it was a protective embrace, and Yzak coloured immensely and dropped his arms away like the boy had turned into a posionous spider of lethal sorts. Shiho's eyes narrowed a little, but he ignored her and diverted his attention to the child.

"Are you alright?" he questioned sharply, watching the boy look up at them with fear still painted in every feature. How old was the child? His hazelnut hair was still soft like down, and his eyes were very bright and sprightly-coloured, he couldn't have been more than eight years old.

He waited; the boy was still trembling, and Dearka asked puzzledly, "Why clean the window like that? They could always get a grown up to handle that sort of thing!"

"I was trying to help my mother," the boy spoke. He looked startled at his ability to speak, not unlike the three who were surrounding him. Well, two. He was sitting in Yzak's lap in actual reality, and yet, Yzak hadn't realised this. The child was decked in the usual uniform the servants wore, black trousers, waistcoats, cravats, that sort of thing, except the boy had on an apron reserved for the maids or various housekeepers of the four wings of the Joule Estate.

He looked ridiculous in the sort of endearing way that Yzak hated.

"Who's your mother, boy? " Yzak questioned harshly, glaring at him as if to compensate for the fact that the boy was comfortably nestled in his lap.

The child flinched, as if Yzak had brandished a knife or whip at him. His hair was a bit curly, it made Yzak think almost immediately of Nicol, but this boy had paler skin and even wider eyes. 'Befitting of a child then,' Yzak thought grimly.

"Don't scare him," Dearka warned, "He's had enough of a scare already."

"In any case," Shiho cut in, her voice smooth and sonorous, "Why don't you tell us your name first?"

They were all startled. The edge and flintiness in her voice had miraculously dissolved into a regal melody that seeped into every note she spoke. Her dark hair fell softly, over a shoulder, and she looked as if she had known and loved the boy for her whole life.

'Why don't you speak like that?' Yzak thought painfully, 'Why do you do this to us?'

But those were thoughts and she knew nothing of those.

The boy looked up at her, still gripping the rag he had been using to wipe the windows. Yzak gazed up at her too, seeing what the boy saw. Shiho was looking down at them, crouching a little with her hands placed firmly on her knees, her eyes quite open and clearly a startling violet in the light that came from the windows above them. Her long, dark hair was glossy to a finish, and it hung loosely over her shoulders in strands, those that had escaped the cord's grasp. And Yzak wanted to reach out and touch her sweeping eyelashes, just to see if they were really there, but he swallowed and looked away.

"Pieter Duvet, m'am," the boy answered eagerly, his fear suddenly forgotten. And he scrambled up and she took his hands to pull him up, leaving an irate Yzak sitting on the steps. First he was a human net, and now, he doubled as a doormat. Joy.

She was saying something to the boy, and he scrambled off, but not before he blushed insanely and kissed her cheek very abruptly. She coloured too, but she kept mum, and Dearka chuckled and patted the boy's head.

'Funny how a pretty girl always made a boy forget his benefactor,' Yzak thought cynically.

He watched Shiho rise and move steadily into the room he had directed her to. She would live there on the days she wanted to be free of ZAFT and the camp. He had granted her that key, and now, the gamble was being played, the die was being cast. He would give her up to fate and free will. Only that the free will involved would be hers and hers alone.

"Don't feel sore now," Dearka laughed, making as if to pull him up too, but Yzak swiped his hand away and got up himself, "Pieter's a good boy, and Yzak's an even better one for catching him."

"I'm not a good boy, dammit!"

He scowled in a very ugly way and the boy looked terrified.

"Don't worry about Lord Joule now," Dearka said soothingly to the child, "Just run on your way and please don't celan those windows like that anymore. Your mother'd be horrified to hear about it if she ever did."

And Dearka winked at a scarlet-faced Yzak.

The boy grinned embarrasedly and bowed quickly to Yzak, as low as he could permit, and Yzak awkwardly waved him away. There was a whir of hazel hair, black uniform, and white, frilly apron, the ribbons trailing haphazardly, and Yzak, in spite of the strange mood he was in, had to fight down a laugh. They stared in silence at his retreating back, and then Yzak cleared his throat rather pointedly.

"Point of that whole event then?" Dearka asked jokingly.

"There's no point! Don't botherdiscussing it!" Yzak glared, his words jumbled in a rush.

"Strange though," Dearka continued thoughtfully, as if he hadn't heard Yzak, "I never knew your House employed childrennthat young to work. Seems pretty harsh to me."

There was some silence as they walked on to their rooms, but then Yzak decided he had to enlighten Dearka, just in case he went back and told the whole of ZAFT that the Joules were using child-slaves a la Dickensian novels.

"We take in their families as well," Yzak told him calmly enough, "Although we don't require the children to join their parents' trades as well."

"Why do that?" Dearka asked in amazement, "Your mother's never been as un-economical as this, why start now?"

"You can ask her yourself," Yzak answered tonelessly, "That is, if you even see her in this house, I think she might plan her trip back from wherever she is now in about a year's time. I heard the shopping deals in Coppernicus account for seventy percent of the colony's economic wealth."

"Sure," Dearka retorted, "The law of demand is a law and not a theory for a good reason."

He headed into his own room, leaving Yzak alone to similarly enter his own room, which he hadn't done so for quite some time.

The air was slightly fresher here, the ZAFT bunks always had a lingering mustiness that Ezalia forbid with a vengeance, as if dust was a personal enemy. Yzak's room bore testimony of such treatment, it was kept spick-span although his things were never displaced. The maid who came in here was obviosuly a capable one. How did one clean if forbidden by him to displace anything and everything?

Simple solution, Yzak thought wryly, walking around the expanse and surveying everything quietly. She must have replaced them in the exact position after cleaning. He wondered who it was, he wasn't too familiar with the servants, it had been Ezalia who had assigned the maids to certain rooms to be in charge of that specific area, and she had chosen correctly.

He changed from his uniform into home clothes, nonetheless formal and well-fitting, just without the military emblems. All House members dressed as such, even Dearka was subject to the basic etiquette of the Houses. He moved languidly out of his room and turned a few corridors, just in time to witness Shiho stepping out tentatively, the dark strands swishing wildly behind her in accordance to the movements. She hadn't bound her hair today, and he wondered if she had done it on purpose.

Shiho had stepped out tentatively, and yet, she looked as if she had belonged there since the days of her birth.

He wondered briefly, very briefly, why his heart was swelling with pride in a way more suitable for a father than a- friend.

She looked right at him and suddenly, very suddenly, so deftly that it froze his tongue, Shiho curtseyed.

Ezalia Joule had once told her son, after two hours of coercing and threatening him to bow properly in an etiquette class, that it was the greatest form of respect he could show.

"You must bow until you know your body has reached ninety-degrees or more, even," She had instructed firmly, her eyes watching his carefully and comprehending the raw distaste her son's had in them.

He made a rude gesture that did not achieve the impact he had in mind, she merely smiled regally, like a queen being only slightly amused by a third-grade court jester. Simply put, Yzak had not achieved the shock impact he would have had liked to earn out of his mother. And when all failed, the then-child had attempted tough-talk.

"I don't need to show anyone respect," Yzak snapped childlishly, and Ezalia Joule had felt somehow, relieved, that her nine-year-old son hadn't grown up totally yet. Thank the Heavens, she thought sadly, he hasn't left totally.

"One day," she said outwardly and quite flippantly, "You will, and it's every gentleman's mark to know who to give his respect to. You demonstrate it by first bowing. For a lady, it's a curtsey."

She demonstrated it with a lingering pride and stunning grace, very flawless and pure. She had curtseyed to a young boy who had caused her so much grief, and in doing that, had caused him to bow to her in more ways than one, even when the boy had grown to be a man.

That had been what Ezalia Joule did ten years ago.

Shiho was now curtseying to him.

He had never seen anyone curtsey like that before. Obviously he had seen girls curtsey, the bridge girls who didn't come from middle-class families, but distinguished Houses often curtseyed when orders were issued, quite by habit and force of upbringing, but more often than not, it would be a quick, cute bob of the heels, something that made their backgrounds quite distinguishable even amongst other bridge girls of lesser standings. On the extreme end, the women who attended the balls he was sometimes forced to attend with his mother would give sweeping ones with elaborate flourishes, their voluminous skirts darting and sweeping spectacularly around their ankles, and even he, Yzak Joule, would be obliged to bow and kiss their hand as a form of acknowledgement and respect.

Of course, as the years passed, the child grew up to be a haughty, rash teenager, and formalities somehow faded out of the normal accepted ways of those around him even as their bank accounts swelled with their prides. He never bowed now, it was more of the salute with his inherent calling to the military, but once, Yzak had bowed, and now he cursed the fact that he had bowed to the nihilistic Le Creuset, he who hid even his face.

Shiho had lowered herself, not as beautifully or with as many pretty flourishes he had seen with the other females of his social class, but it was graceful in its simplicity, and while he had seen many who kept eye contact in a rather disturbing way, especially since their mothers always spoke to his after the meeting, she simply inclined her head a bit to the side. She could have chosen to thank him personally with words, but she had simply curtsied. Quick and not long-drawn, just plain and defenceless in nature.

Then she straightened and stared quietly at him, mimicking his stare.

What was he supposed to say anyway? It might have been less shocking, had she saluted and addressed him formally by his title, and yet, she had wound up showing the mark of her upbringing while decked in her ubitiquous, blood-red uniform.

'Remarkable, ' Yzak thought. It seemed his brain had frozen along with the rest of him.

Was it too selfish to hope she would have smiled for him? She didn't, she merely gazed upon him in silence until he spoke up.

"You haven't forgotten."

"I don't forget."

Calm words, chilling, not in the fearsome way, but with the dreadful realisation that hope was springing like wanton weeds in his heart.

"Smile," Yzak said quietly, still watching her unblinkingly as she stood stiffly before him. It was an audacious request, he wondered what had possessed him to utter that very cursed syllable. And yet, the eye contact couldn't be broken, and she made no indication that she had even heard him.

He intensified his silent assault on her will, and she likewise too, until the violet in her eyes were dark amesthyst pools.

"Smile for me," he demanded, and in the strange situation and the foreign numbness, he saw the corners of her lips twitch slightly, and then, like a sudden burst of light on dark hills, it spread gloriously through her eyes and on her face. And then it was gone and he was left staring at her confusedly and a little stupidly.

"What's going on?"

Damn Dearka, Yzak reflected. He always knew how to ruin good moments. Of course his friend hadn't seen the peculiar exchange, but he had popped in curiously and opened his blasted mouth to ask some awkward question.

"Lunch, that's what," Yzak said emotionlessly.

And without a further word or any ado at all, he marched away from the corridor before the gravity of it all crashed on him in the unforgiving way he feared so much.

* * *

Author's note: Sorry about the really long wait, I've been so busy recently. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, the events will unfold quicker after this, so bear with me and the long wait if it's necessary. Please r&r, give me a sign and indication of how you'd like this to turn out, k'? 


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD. R&R Please!

* * *

Chapter 21 

He left with a bang, literally.

Dearka had never been the sort anybody, even the deaf, would describe as quiet. As soon as lunch was over and they were feeling like fattened pigs getting ready for the slaughterhouse, Dearka stood up very abruptly and announced, "I've got a little business to settle, I'll see you soon!"

On hindsight, Yzak reflected, it must have been the Natural who was making his friend go in a hurry. Only a phone call of that sort would have hurried his otherwise unhurried best friend. Dearka had skipped out and slammed the door quite unintentionally, but there was no mistaking the blissful urgency his face displayed. And that left a sullen Yzak staring at the officer he had brought home. The silence that Dearka had left by moving off was starting to be uncomfortable. To make matters worse, Shiho clearly wasn't taking the initiative to speak up. She looked politely disinterested with the table arrangements, crystal goblets and white linen, all of that.

He eventually cleared his throat. "Are you interested in horse riding?"

"Yes."

Polite disinterest again. He wondered what the hell was going on with her. Crazy contradictions and dual-moods, all that was really starting to make him want to get a manual to understand her. But he pressed on, quite recklessly.

"The manor has a few gentle mares around; I'll get the servant to saddle one later."

He had an old, patient, mare in mind. Its heyday had consisted of eating half the meadow and the gardener's prized dahlias at one point of time, but that had been about all it had accomplished. Quite unlike the others who had won multiple awards in shows, but then those were difficult to manage to ay the least.

"And your steed is a stallion?"

He paused slightly, seeing for the first time, that her eyes throwing a challenge at him. And so, Yzak nodded once and said a bit reluctantly, "I'll arrange for a stallion instead of a mare then. Be warned that they have bad tempers; it's a trait of the lead stallion that was unfortunately passed on to the colts. Of course, the colts are now adults, but their bad tempers are still well-sealed in their characters."

She suddenly smiled, it was a soft one, and he felt remarkably pained for a second. But when she spoke, he was glad that her voice held some merriness, no matter how hidden and subtle it seemed to him.

"Sounds like the Commander," Shiho remarked gently, and she looked at a fascinating region on the white linen of the table.

He laughed, in spite of himself. Had Dearka been there, he might have scowled and bit back. But for a reason he couldn't even begin to fathom, Yzak had laughed and appreciated the go Shiho had had at him. His laughter was strong and resounding, and he noticed her looking up and smiling, her eyes were keen and sharp now.

Then he pushed the chair back and stood up, maintaining eye contact with her as he strode around the table to help her do the same. And he stood respectfully aside, as she stepped out, taking the hand he had offered a bit hesitantly.

"You do realise that Dearka will be unhappy that he's missing out on the horse riding?" Shiho asked wryly as Yzak led her out silently.

"Obviously," He replied tonelessly, concentrating on not tripping over the stone steps that they were descending, "But what he doesn't know won't hurt him."

There was something in his voice that surprised both of them, and the moment was broken only when he let go of her hand when they reached the bottom, a sort of valley that overlooked the plains they would ride the steeds upon.

The servant was already waiting, holding two young stallions that were snorting unpleasantly and pawing distastefully at the humans. Considering the experience of the hand that held the two steeds, Yzak noted with some queer satisfaction, that the man looked a bit uncomfortable with the foul-tempered beasts. Nobody would tame them but the Joule House. Similarly, nobody would tame the Joule House unless they wished to be tamed. Like owner, like beast, Ezalia had once remarked.

Yzak thoroughly agreed.

"I'll take this one," He instructed, holding the leather straps firmly and ignoring the clear, overt glare the stallion was throwing at him. Reaching out, Yzak accepted the whip the stable hand was offering. Yzak hd ridden horses for a decade and more, and he had an invariant, inborn lust of danger and speed, but a contradicting sense of level-headedness he attributed to his father. His mother had given him the stubborn will and ambition, his rational side must have been his father's then. If true, then it manifested. If false, then it would not be proven- his father had died. And Yzak knew the steed was of a loco descent. He considered refusing the whip, especially if Shiho was around, for he was keen not to make her too cautious of the horses, but he eventually reached out and took ahold of the toughened leather band. He might have need of it later.

And Yzak mounted expertly, noting, from the corner of his eye, Shiho chose not to do likewise, but stood at her stallion's side, patting its long face, quite oblivious to its tendency to bite, and somehow, it quietened and did not buck when she stepped up and swung her leg over its side. Yzak was notably impressed, but he hid it with a smirk and his steady hands, and they advanced at a steady trot.

"You seem to know much about the beasts," he remarked presently.

"I had a pony once," she replied emotionlessly. He had half-expected her to speak with fondness about a pet or eagerness, but then he was forcibly reminded that this was the Major Hahenfuss.

He sighed inwardly; making sure his stallion was moving to his will, lest it suddenly buck and bolt, throwing him off the saddle. "You know, I thought you would have liked the pony better than that."

"I had it for a month, not much of a chance to get attached to it," Shiho retorted, keeping her eyes ahead on the trees that arched into a pathway above the broad plains. It was queer how the world seemed to consist of only them and the trees and the path, but the world, no matter how extensive it seemed, was only part of the Joule Estate. A bit like how my world exists only in the Joule's world, Yzak thought tiredly.

"A month only," he said aloud, "You grew bored of it?"

"I may not have been the perfect princess," she responded lightly, turning her horse towards a deviant path, he was forced to follow likewise, "But I wasn't spoilt the way some other Houses may have spoilt their heirs."

"Then why?" Yzak questioned, quite curious in spite of his growing reservations. It was remarkable, the way she inspired curiosity in him, when all the others around him could only inspire boredom and yes, yawns.

She shrugged a little, "I fell off and almost paralysed my back."

His eyes widened involuntarily. "I should think it would be removed! But aren't ponies used for children so that if they should fall, the fall will not harm them so much?"

Yzak then saw that she turned away a bit uncomfortably. "I was riding fast that day. I mistakenly thought that I would be able to control its speed, but clearly, I was wrong."

"It doesn't seem characteristic of you to do something as foolhardy as that," Yzak observed, flicking the whip warningly against the stallion that was starting to grow impatiently with the slow pace they were trotting at. 'Clearly a sprinter, this one,' Yzak thought distractedly.

Shiho looked awkward, quite painfully shy, but she chose to look at him although she could have concentrated on the path ahead. He admired her guts.

"I was given the pony a month before my father decided we would leave Aprilius to go to December. When he told me it was time to go, I thought of running away so I could stay here. But I fell and they eventually found me and carried me back so my broken arm could heal. I found out that we were leaving because he didn't have much time left, not anymore, and then I regretted the decision to run away. I never admitted that to my father even when I asked him to give the pony away."

There was a long silence, and he tried to digest what she was saying, Before the Hahenfusses had left, she had gone to see him. Or rather, he had seen her by the swings and watched her cry although she had tried to hide it little. And not for the first time, Yzak Joule wondered how much he really understood about the person he was watching.

"What are the names of these two?" She asked eventually, breaking the silence as the two stallions snorted and whinnied, almost as if they understood that Shiho was talking about them.

"Colonel and Major," He answered promptly. No matter how long he was away from the manor, he would return and familiarise himself with all the horses. Those were his compatriots sometimes, intelligent beasts, but beasts nonetheless, and less complicated then the humans he met.

"Military ranks," Shiho observed, "And why?"

"No reason," Yzak answered calmly, "It just suits them. Lest you think the Joule House is a military one like some others, the names of the others' would prove you wrong. My mother once said the Joule House valued art and philosophy, apparently the horses became testimony of that."

"Tell me the others' names," She requested, and he paused even thought the horses were still trotting forward. She was waiting for him, quite expectantly, to speak up, and he found himself saying quite obligingly, "Archer, Athena, Bayonet, Colonel, Napoleon, Major, Poseidon, Aristotle, Plato, Socrates, Wagner, Diva, Lilith, Hera, Prokoviev, Klimt, Siegfried, Bartholomew, Duchamp. The last one was the mare I had intended for you, Raven."

She questioned his choice of name for the last horse, "Greek philosophers, musicians, artists, war poets, military might, Greek gods, and a bird?"

The puzzled look on Shiho's face was priceless, and Yzak wondered what it took to surprise a person like her. And he knew then that he would have gone and done anything at that very instant to capture her, but the best he could do was to lock the image of her widened eyes and slightly parted lips in his mind. She looked uncomfortable that he was enjoying her puzzlement, and she turned away, very hastily.

And he threw his head back and laughed. "Raven is the mother of many of the most outstanding, but strangely, she has never seen a need to live up to any expectations. She is jet-black and glorious to look at, there are world-class painters who have requested to borrow her, yes, but other than that, she is simply the gardener's enemy, quite unlike her children, one of which is Colonel which you now ride."

She watched him for a while and laughed too. Her laughter sent a delicious thrill in him, it was akin to discovering a treasure that only he would know of, and he remained silent, basking in the sunlight and glory. Then he glanced at her and saw that she was peeping through her eyelashes, her lids half-shut, in remembrance of some peace he had never seen her come close to, and he wondered if his gamble would bring her in to him. With any luck and continuation of what he was observing, she would agree to stay for eternity. He would never force her, he wasn't as diabolical and as superfluous as that, no, but he believed that he wanted her near him, and in believing, that was the absolute truth of the matter.

"I'll race you," Shiho said suddenly, turning her body and facing him entirely, "I'll see if I can win."

There was a definite edge in her voice, her violet eyes were merry, and he knew his heart was beating madly in his chest, beating with heightened anticipation and wonder.

"I'd hate to lose," Yzak responded confidently, squaring his shoulders and moving his steed next to hers.

She grinned and he returned it helplessly. Damn her for all eternity.

"To the end of the stretch, marked by the blossoming tree, the sole one there, " He said softly, pointing to a white speck in the far distance. The world would meld into nothing but a blur and rush of colours once they began the long race. But he would win, not to satisfy the competitive streak in his blood, but to prove his intent.

She nodded once to show she had understood, and steadied the horse to a halt, following his exact movements.

"On the count of three," Yzak instructed, "One, two-"

Her hand lifted the reins, and her horse sprung before the last count, causing her to yelp in shock. And Yzak cursed and urged Major forward, wondering why he hadn't remembered that the very horse Shiho now rode had been the most impatient of all. No doubt, it was the swiftest sprinter in the entire herd, one of his mother's personal favorites, but it would take the very lift of the whip as a signal to start, rather than the sting of the whip itself. Bloody horse, bloody him for not remembering, Yzak thought furiously.

He watched the jet steed streaking off in the distance, quite a distance away from Major, who was charging fast, but not nearly as fast as Yzak wanted to catch up and overtake Colonel and Shiho. He was worried, briefly, whether the little shock would affect Shiho badly, but as they sped past the wide turn, less than an eight of the total distance covered, he could evaluate Shiho's excitement and apparent expertise with the horse. She had crouched above it, bringing it forward quite recklessly in a pursuit of the wind that was pulling her hair back completely, devoid of a helmet that she had politely refused like Yzak. His heart leapt at the sight of her, and he shouted to Major to speed up, and his order was complied immediately. So his observation of Major being a sprinter too, had been quite correct. While Colonel was the swiftest, no doubt, but that meant repercussions on distances that stretched as long as this one. And that would be his winning strategy.

They were gaining upon Shiho and Colonel now, but she was urging it faster, swifter than ever, and they sped ahead once more. Major was tiring now, and Yzak knew it was reaching its limit. Unfortunately, Colonel wasn't, damn the bloody stallion with the lightning speed, and he quickly calculated the distance they had traveled. They were past the halfway mark, and he was willing to bet that in a jiffy, Colonel and Shiho would slow down. And that mean Major would overtake them if he maintained a slightly slower speed and conserved his energy now. Thus Yzak pulled Colonel into a less brisk canter, and the horse gratefully accepted.

As they neared the tree that was becoming more and more apparent in the distance, Yzak suddenly shouted and swung the whip hard against the flank, and Colonel shot forward like a liberated arrow. They charged past Shiho and Colonel, past the tree, and Yzak, in spite of all former reservations, whooped with victory, like a young boy again.

Shiho caught up, eventually, but the look on her face suggested that he had ordered her to wear a frilly dress.

"Not sore, are we?" He asked infuriatingly, enjoying the slight irritation he saw in her darkened eyes. She was still panting a little, and he watched her shoulders rising and her reddened lips with blurred thoughts. She threw him a sort of glare and leapt off the horse in a strange hint of frustration, then taking its reins and guiding it to a nearby tress so it could rest and drink from the stream. He sighed and led Colonel to do the exact same, and moved steadily to Shiho.

"It was only a race," he said irritably, wondering why he was trying to pacify her so much when he honestly should have been enjoying the victory more, "And you suggested it in the first place, Officer."

She slowed her pace to turn to look at him. "I should have known that you were better at strategising than me."

"That's obvious," Yzak shot back, "I know the horses, and you don't. What's there to feel inferior about anyway? It wasn't fair from the start."

Her face showed no sign of the placidness it had shown earlier, and he was upset by the sudden tension and lack of ease.

"I lost anyway."

She turned away, clearly upset and child-like for once, startling Yzak to the brink of not recognising her. But in the next instant, he had laughed, pulled her to face him, and pressed his lips to her limp hand after raising it swiftly. Her eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened considerably.

"Good game," he said flippantly, not letting go, but taking the other hand and holding both wrists gently, "I want to turn back."

"I don't, "Shiho replied, quite reflectively, "I'd rather stay here where the wind's blowing."

She was like a child. And perhaps, he too. And he wondered if he had ever been truly, in all sense of the word, a child, at any point of his life. For now it seemed to Yzak that he had always felt this old and always this clear-headed, save the tempremental points, of course. He wondered, very abruptly, why he had never fell into any flights of fancy and had the opportunity to lose himself. Even in the war, he had still retained some level-headedness. And now, it was the same.

"Strange reason," Yzak retorted, but he still sat down and began half-pulling the grass out by tufts. She looked at him for a while and sat down too, and the horses began grazing, very peacefully, still decked out into their saddles and reins, although those had been loosened for comfort.

"You are eighteen this year, are you not?" He questioned lazily, now lying down on his back and watching the sun peeping through the gaps the tree branches above them had.

"I am," she responded lightly, "And that means you will be nineteen soon. But you are already the Lord of the Joule House in legal terms."

"And you will face the same for your house when you are eighteen," He told her seriously, flipping over on his side to watch her. She sighed and looked in the distance, answering quietly, "I have nothing left in the Hahenfuss name but the memory of my father, Commander. You will do well to remember that the ties our Houses once shared dissolved with the death of Steiner Hahenfuss."

"Agreed, "He said uneasily, "But that doesn't mean we can't stay like this."

Her head turned in his direction, and her eyes were very large in her pale face.

"Don't say that sort of thing," She whispered, and turned away from his eyes. He sat up tensely and watched her profile balefully, she was ravishing, no doubt, but he wasn't so interested in that, more of the look of irritation on her face. He was none too pleased either, and it cast a frown on his features that passed like a shadow, fleeting, yes, but nonetheless existent.

His hand reached out and grasped the ends of her hair, binding them together as they ought to have been with the pink cord he had carelessly strewn at her once. Shiho was clearly startled, her lips formed an indiscreet 'oh' of surprise and he hastily let go. It would not do to forget his manners and more crucially, his to honor was the crux of being.

There was silence once more, not for the first time that day, but certainly more tense and upset than what either had experienced before.

"I'm tired," Shiho said finally, "I want to speak all that I've ever kept from saying. And you shall listen."

Her words flew out sharply, so authoritatively, so full of wounded pride and despair that he was obliged to listen. And he might have reminded her that he was a rank higher than hers, and yet, he found himself looking straight into her unshielded violet orbs and being completely unguarded against her. On hindsight, it reminded him of Ezalia Joule.

So there were parallels, he thought dryly.

"Speak," Yzak said softly, "I will do as you say."

One of the horses neighed impatiently, breaking the still air. But then the wind was already blowing threateningly and the horses were calmed as their manes blew busily in the wind. One ambled off and the other followed, as if respecting the privacy their master commanded. Strange beasts.

He observed Shiho stare after the beasts, but she cast her eyes down soon after and sighed, but spoke soon.

"When I returned to Aprilius when I was fifteen," Shiho began, "I was too tired to start again, too tired to try and revive what I had in the past. My father didn't leave me penniless, quite the contrary as the Commander has often asserted. Having said that, I had no roots left in Aprilius, for obvious reasons, and being the last member of the Hahenfuss House, it didn't occur to me that it might have mattered after my father passed on. The house we once lived in was bequeathed to me, but I couldn't bring myself to go back to it. I knew that I was betrothed to the Joule House, but I chose to break the agreement, a rash decision, but the right one nevertheless."

She paused to draw in a breath and noticed that his eyes had become steely at the mention of the engagement. But she ploughed on, recklessly and urgently, sensing that he was fighting an inner battle.

"I didn't want to be tied down then, to agreements and promises a dead man had made in his lifetime. I didn't expect to- meet you, in ZAFT, anyhow, and live through the war like this. I didn't join ZAFT to die anyhow, I didn't know where else I could go and be of use to anyone. I lived in a small house before I joined, under my father's instructions, and there was a housekeeper who saw to my every need, an old woman who was at my beck and call."

"Your father is a shrewd man." He said softly, his eyes scanning her face. A flash of pain erupted, and she laughed wryly.

"Not as shrewd as Lady Joule." She looked away.

And Yzak felt his blood rising like poison in his veins. He knew his mother used spies, but to pit one against a girl who had lost the last of her family- that had been merciless. So the house had been an entire sham, a web of House intrigue and a place that Shiho Hahenfuss had been embroiled in.

"They didn't mistreat you, surely?" It wasn't an inquiry; it was a demand, a blow.

"No," She said firmly, "They were wonderful people. But once I found out that they had to answer to Lady Joule and keep tabs on me to make my whereabouts known to Lady Joule, for reasons I have never been able to think about nor possess the desire to, I found that I could not stay. At that time, the war was spreading everywhere, and I left for ZAFT in a bid to reclaim the little independence I had left."

So he had suspected correctly. Ezalia Joule had had a hand in this. His rage had calmed to a steady throb in his temple but his heart suffered more pain than his mind.

"I will be eternally grateful to Lady Joule, however," Shiho said, brushing away the look of incredulity he threw at her, "She alone, arranged for the instructions my father left, to be carried out to the very last letter of the will, in turn ensuring my survival. It may well be I," She laughed wryly, "Who is the ungrateful, unrepentant one. But a Hahenfuss is obliged to keep to his word. I said I would not stay, and I have not come back to ask for any more to do with the Joule House."

"I asked you to come," Yzak insisted, "And you came."

"So I did," She replied wistfully, "So I did."

He waited for her to continue, but she never did. The pause, breaking the continuality of her sentences, had caused a jolt in him and a stab of pained hope. But, no. And she did not continue to speak.

"Have you nothing more to say?" Yzak demanded, willing the harshness to stay controlled in his voice. His hands were shaking a little.

"Nothing more."

She said this with a vexation in her voice, although her eyes were clean from anger or frustration or any sign of protest to her very words.

"I found out about the engagement in the war," Yzak said in a low voice, "You were the one who told me, remember? And at that time, you said the very words you have just uttered. At that point in time, what was it then, two years ago, you shed tears over Nicol's death. And you may never shed tears for- anyone else again. You have the will to choose not to believe, but I would have taken you for my bride if only to keep you with me."

A difficult pause, but he conquered it and found his voice to complete the sentence. He tried to congratulate himself for the massive effort and apparent success, but found it empty, like a core of air. It was like biting into a sumptious cake and waking up with the remnants of a dream fading and a vivid taste of bitterness, emptiness.

"I didn't love Nicol," Shiho said in an emotionless voice that Yzak was beginning to recognise as a default mode of hers, "I never said so during the war- I wanted comfort and I didn't know how I could make you stay. I wanted to tell you then, but I could never muster enough pluck. You must think me a coward for not being more honest, but I never loved him. He was dearer to me than any friend had been, but he was nothing more. And the thought had never been an inkling to either one of us, although I encouraged you to follow in those thoughts."

"Oh."

A long silence again. They stared at each other and a shadow passed over her face, troubled and insistent, and a line of concentration flirted with his forehead, making him look slightly strained. He reached out, feeling it almost mandatory, to lift a lock of raven of her cheek and she flinched, involuntarily, but did not withdraw.

He tried again. "Do you realise that I-"

His voice stuck in his throat and refused to budge, and for the first time in a very long while, Yzak Joule felt despondent. He wondered if it would be too unbecoming of a man, one of honour no less, to cry with tears of vexation and anger. She looked miserable too, and he knew why. If she had been of a higher rank, or he of a lower one, nobody would have spoken ill of their decisions, or if they had lived their desires and dreams. If she hadn't been so insistent and stubborn to her innate streak of independence and if he hadn't been already married to his work and his pride, his voice wouldn't have been trapped in his throat and her silence would have been traded for something very different.

But it wasn't, and they weren't.

And that was that.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD, but that means I get to play around with the characters, no? Please R&R!

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Chapter 22

Ezalia Joule sat in her chair, lounging back and thinking, thinking very hard. She always needed to think hard when it came to her son. Any wrong step would mean a lost game for all of them, and thinking hard hadn't been a habit of hers. She hadn't needed to for a long time, no, not after she had been a prisoner in her own house with little to do save rot into nothing.

It had been a mistake, admittedly, yes, to bet on a horse like Patrick Zala. But at that time, she had wanted revenge like him, so placing herself with a madman had been sane, ignoring the irony of it, of course. His son, Athrun Zala, had left for good, or so she heard, the sources these days were hardly reliable unless you were foolish enough to trust them. Those, as far as Ezalia was concerned, were only worth idle gossip during tea parties and annual balls. So he had left, and nobody could track down the Zala's boy any more. Or man. Whichever.

She stretched comfortably and stared at her hands that were resting on either side of the ornate armchair. Her hair had grown to a shoulder-length recently, she would arrange for it to be cut to its former length soon. She had decided that she wouldn't wear her hair long, and Ezalia never went back on her word. Not to herself, at least.

And then she laughed cynically. Funny how revenge always got the better of her and her son.

The house in Coppernicus was very nice. Nobody but she and the people she trusted were around, and that, in Ezalia Joule's terms, was perfect. Of course, there were good communication devices from here to Aprilius, which was a double bonus, because while the cat was out, the mice would play. And the cat intended to know what the mice were playing without it.

The engagement still held, Ezalia thought fiercely to herself. There were no two ways about or around it. Not while Ezalia Joule was alive and kicking.

But for now- She sighed heavily, it wasn't an unhappy or resentful one. Quite peaceful and contented in actual fact, and then she called for her attendant.

"Yes, m'lady." Obdient, unquestioning, there were some men who were born to be in this profession, and her butler was one of them.

"Lady Hahenfuss is in the main house, ensure her comfort. It will be a long stay."

She said this sweetly and sharply, careful to throw in a dash of confidence that bordered on arrogance, and a hint of formality. It was always necessary to remind the people who was in charge, she told herself a bit guiltily, nevermind that he was a faithful old servant. Her butler didn't raise even his eyebrows, let alone a question. Good man, as always.

"See to it too," She added as an afterthought, "That Lord Joule gets his rest and doesn't overwork himself."

Her butler smiled, a knowing, soft smile, and his eyes were glowing in his wrinkled, wizened, familiar face.This time, she ignored him, and fought not to feel a little disconcerted that there were more and more people who were becoming to familiarise themselves with Ezalia Joule. She did not like to make herself open to others. She disliked people understanding her too well.

There was only one person who was allowed to do that. And he had died.

So she would allow nobody to do what he had done for her.

She was not there to be understood, she was there to do what she had always been doing- living. And of course, she thought, after a slight pause, 'to make sure those I want to let live will live on with me.'

She smiled wistfully at her selfishness. It was time to have a little self-indulgence in any case.

The butler was still standing attentively by the side, ready to wait on further insturctions. She narrowed her eyes and watched her reflection in the vanity mirror- the lines around her eyes were starting to appear. Insignificant, since she was still young, but give a little more time, and she would be subject to the decay all humans went through- Coordinator or not.

"You know," Ezalia said wryly, "If you want to say something, you can. You've been serving the Joules for two decades, speech is restricted yes, but they say it is free anyhow."

He coughed uncomfortably, but his eyes twinkled like stars above his white moustache. Funny man. Always waiting on her, always waiting to wait on her, and she, always waiting to be waited on. Strange how the people who cared were often the most forgettable, unnoticeable ones.

"M'lady," the butler said gently, "Don't you think Lord Joule has his own plans?"

"Of course he does," Ezalia replied instantly, he was always the sort. Competitive, a daredevil, all temper and little sense at times, although he was admittedly more level-headed now, but he always had his plans up his sleeves, now a stark white with black lining and hems.

And Yzak Joule always got what he wanted.

Just like Ezalia, just like her, they had the same hair, same eyes, same liking for danger, same proud streak, same beauty, same need to control the volcanic, behemoth temper they possessed when aggravated. They were alike in many ways, for better or for worse. And Ezalia always got what she wanted, just like Yzak. It was just that-

"His plans are mine as well."

"Yes, m'lady, and from what I see, you like the Lady Hahenfuss. I know it was a politcal marriage right from the start, to ensure the Hahenfuss' survival and longevity in PLANT, and to increase the prestige of the Joule House, but it seems to me that you are encouraging a deeper delving into the marriage. You allowed Lady Hahenfuss to break the contract, but you did not inform her that breaking it, the choice she took, was only a temporary one in the legal document, it was only a postphoning for three years for emergency reasons. Of course, m'lady had her reasons which I have no reason to question. But otherwise, Lady Hahenfuss would be preparing for the marriage into the Joule House even as I speak."

"I did not wish to let her know the nature of her choice of anullment."

Her eyes were instantly cold, her voice was warning, and he was immediately reminded that being an old, trusted family confidante would not warrant a loose tongue, not then, not now, not ever. He bowed slightly and looked immensely mortified at his momentary slip, but she did not mind; she had encouraged it.

"Yes, m'lady."

A tone of immense respect but with a key of doubt. She laughed inwardly, so she had been wrong to think that he was beginning to understand her after so many years of servitude. And then Ezalia glanced up and said gently, "You've had a long day, please retire for your sake and mine."

She eased herself out of the chair and swept off in a dazzle of winter and sapphire. Ezalia Joule was that sort of person.

Knowing her son, he was doing exactly what she had intended him to do. He was strong-willed, no doubt, stubborn, certainly, proud, inherent in the Joules. And Ezalia had known, since the war had left a scar on and in him, such that Yzak would insist on traveling in the direction exactly opposite to the one intended, and supposedly best for Yzak Joule to move in. In other words, he would go against all odds to defy her, his mother.

And so Diamini had been brought in to steer him in the right direction.

Meanwhile, Yzak sat in his own chair, feeling increasingly, as always, irritated.

Generally, he would have listened to sob-stories quite patiently since his duty called for him to oversee the soldiers, and that included the female ones, unfortunately. It ranged from sick family members to high living-costs that made them request for pay rises, sometimes the occasional complaint against so-and-so, frequently a plea for assignment-datelines to be extended, all that, he had seen. Part of the job, but better petty nonsense then war, in Yzak's opinion.

But then,Yzak Joule preferred male company, not because the popular opinion was true, and this was often attributed this to his silver hair's cut, but because the males wouldn't talk about something, then suddenly, and for unfathomable reasons, dissolve and leave in taxis and a flood of tears.

Like this female was prone to doing.

"Have another tissue," He ordered impatiently. The weeping girl reached out and took one with trembling fingers. The tissue resembled a leaf that was going to be blown away by the wind, all light and entirely unstable in her hands. Silly things, both of them.

"Here's what you'll do," Yzak said finally, ignoring the glimmering eyes and red nose, "You'll take a month's leave until you're prepared to come back to ZAFT and work without the far-reaching influence of your boyfriend. The long-distance relationship seems to have been quite well-established, a single call from afar made such an impact in ZAFT, so much so that you, a test-pilot, are sent here."

The last sentence was not without a touch of dryness and wry humour.

And the girl looked terrified at the prospect of the lack of job and boyfriend, but Yzak ignored the trembling tissue and stared beyond her.

"If you don't mind me saying," he said firmly, "It's deemed, not just in my opinion, but by the book, that your conduct is close to insubordination and lack of capability. To crash the pilot GOUF into four driveways, one after the other, and right after the commanding officer ordered you to cease your rampage, was downright madness. Besides, destroying the entire barrier wall only because your-" He paused, feeling doubtful at what he had been about to say, since it looked like it was a gone-case to him. But he continued, nevertheless.

"-boyfriend told you he wanted a breakup warrants the leave, to say the least. I never expected you to have such an outrageous reaction, jeopardising the safety of those in the experiment and those who were standing by the wall. Your commanding officer has written in a report that clearly shows his disappointment, and it is all I can do to keep you in ZAFT. Bear in mind-"

She dissolved into a fresh wave of tears. Women.

"No matter," Yzak found himself saying to her, quite awkwardly, "You'll still have a job waiting after a month."

"Not that," She choked, "He wants to break up."

He sighed and got up, and he lifted her out of her chair with some effort, since she refused to be picked up. And then, ignoring the warning bells that were blaring in his head at the contact that could have been rendered harassment, he guided her, no, he forced her out of his office and sight.

Women were troublesome creatures. Not worth the effort, really.

An hour later, when he supposed that she had finally gotten herself out of the way, Yzak strolled out of his office, but first checking to see if the coast was clear. He had no right whatsoever, to listen to the woes of the troubled girl and give advice on her love life, not when his was in shambles or nearly non-existent, anyhow.

Her commanding officer had been Shiho.

Stupid, really, women and their need to protect each other.

Had it been another commanding officer in charge of Genevive Maers, he would have fired her immediately. Had it been another commander other than Yzak Joule handling the case, he or she too, would have fired the trouble-maker. Her rampage, caused by lack of control on emotions, had been quite costly. Yzak had heard rumours that Major Hahenfuss had been entirely silent about the whole incident, she hadn't said a word to the girl who might have been the best test-pilot under her, but then Shiho had still requested that, on account of good track-record, the girl be allowed to stay.

Personally, he was still wondering what Shiho thought about it. She never said anything of any sort, so those under her were always left guessing what she really thought. And Yzak was no exception at times.

"You know," Dearka was saying in one of the more insightful times he sometimes contracted, "Major Hahenfuss is a great man, intelligent and capable, problem is that she's a she."

He sometimes thought Dearka was a sexist, and that was true in this statement. But it all made sense. Shiho Hahenfuss was an excellent soldier, intelligent, held her tongue well, blended into the crowds of soldiers perfectly, it was all splendid. Stupid thing was that he loved her not as a soldier did for his subordinate or comrade.

"Sir," his officer was calling our loudly, doing a haphazard salute Yzak chose not to comment on, "Is Maers staying?"

They all knew who she was. And she was positively writhing in shame each time she walked into the communal canteen. Dozens of eyes would be fixated on her and murmurs would start. Yzak had seen those, and it had pained him somewhat, but not very. Misdeeds deserved punishment, she was getting hers, and he would deal no more than that.

"Yes officer," Yzak replied bluntly, "And by the skin of her teeth. But she stays, nevertheless, and the wall should be fixed by this Friday at seventeen hours. The experiment to test mobility and flexibility of the new GOUF in its leaping momentum cannot go on if it isn't fixed by then, I think you realise that as well as I do."

"So does Major Hahenfuss," another piped up excitedly, "She's throwing in everything to ready the experiment this time, from fixing the wall with the team and carrying out the experiment herself. She told someone that she wouldn't enlist the help of a junior this time, probably just in case they got calls five minutes before the experiment started and then they blew up the cockpit in the next because of some pending breakup."

He joined them in their humourless laughter.

She had stayed with him, but it didn't warrant seeing her every day. After the weekend, they had returned to their existences and Dearka had never bothered to ask how the weekend had gone after he had left to see Mirallia Haww. Yzak wasn't too eager to explain in any case, and he was sure Shiho would never say anything either.

He had caught sight of her releasing the cat on an early, chilly morning, entirely by chance. She hadn't noticed him walking in the cool mist of the morning, and she had been wearing her uniform coat, loosely flung over shoulders for once, the cat nestled lazily in her arms. It had progressed from being a nasty, snapping rat to a fat, purring cat, strange relation, but entirely true. And she hadn't said anything at all, just left it in the cold and ignored it when it had tried to follow her back.

She never stopped for it until it finally gave up and sat where it was, licking its face and its wounded pride.

Only then did he see her turn back a little and sigh, then disappear.

He paused, free from the haze of memories quite suddenly, because Dearka was prodding him in the side. Feeling remarkably angered, he snapped, "What?"

"Keye requests that the Commander, ay-kay-ay you, handles the drills the test-pilots are involved in now." Dearka said in a tone of extreme boredom, as if the words he had just uttered weren't a sort of bomb, even though they obviously were. This was meddling with another department of ZAFT all together, it was absolutely ridiculous.

"I oversee the ZAFT squadron in this platoon," Yzak said coldly, "I don't baby-sit the pilots who might make mistakes the one did yesterday. She could have been fired; I'm fighting to keep her in on account of good track record. As it is, we are short of test-pilots, and if I had fired her, the experiment would have been further delayed."

"Precisely why," Dearka persisted, like those kind of parasites that would never leave the dog alone, "The upper brass want you to make sure each pilot doesn't go berserk while on the job. Tough luck for the other Commander then," he continued, not looking apologetic at all, "He neglected his job a little too much. The girl's pardon comes mostly from Major Hahenfuss, and that's good enough an indication to see who's really calling the shots in that section. If the upper brass are going to accept her plea, a Major's plea, rather than the Commander's words, for that one pilot, without her superior's opinion or not.."

He trailed off, looking cheerful.

" -then we might not need a crystal ball to see who will be in the Commander's seat instead of the current fat old bastard, a few years from now. But presently, we need the overarching commander's agreement, that is you, to see that if she stays, the rest of them won't take lessons on going berserk in their cockpits."

Yzak simply glared at the wall. No use getting angry at Dearka's blunt words, those were all true. By keeping the offender in the unit, he had effectively assumed responsibility for making sure the rest did not get into trouble. Stupid everything.

"Schedule?" He barked at another officer. The lad cheerily produced it and half-skipped out of his office. One of these days, he would have to scold the officer for being too happy.

"It says here that you will personally handle, that is, teach, the test-pilots, all sixteen of them in an hour's time." Dearka noted thoughtfully, flipping through the file with the test-pilots' faces in their mug-shots. Some of them glowering, some of them smiling shyly, and one particularly emotionless- Shiho's. She was the unit leader, but according the rumours, Yzak had heard that she was far more capable than their commander, the ace test-pilot who had been piling on weight, apparently due to his inactivity. He would have to see about that- Yzak didn't like incompetent people, but he certainly did not trust rumours either.

He rolled his eyes, muttering exasperatedly, "I'm not trained to test GOUFs and ZAKUs! This is ridiculous!'

"Look," Dearka said cheerfully, "You can smoke your way through this- I have faith in your abilities, both piloting and trundling out of situations like this one. All you need to do is to get into each cockpit during those simulations, and then spit some curses at their maneuvering skills which are probably not as good as yours, and then they'll improve on the spot because they are so in awe or scared at you, and then your work'll be over and you can call it a day."

And he strolled off, whistling a tune that sounded suspiciously like Lacus Clyne's signature song, only more catchy and with a rhythm that was somewhat like pop. Which was like calling Beethoven's fifth symphony jazz music. Yzak shook his head- he must be going crazy to start hearing things like that. Maybe he needed more sleep.

An hour later, exactly an hour, for he hated to be late and hated others to be late, he strode into the massive training grounds where the pilots were assembled in neat rows, directly in front of their assigned test-subjects. He glanced around, straddling the helmet under his fully-clad arm; six ZAKUs, ten GOUFs, all various colours, and all new models the army factories had released a month ago. They had breached the Jachin Due Contract, but nobody was complaining or doing anything. In fact, the person who had ordered this was the newly-elected chairman of PLANT, Gilbert Dullindal.

He had some doubts in his mind, but he put them aside. Dullindal had saved his life.

"The units are ready," a voice behind him said presently.

He whirled around and faced Shiho Hahenfuss. She was in her recoat-pilot uniform, and she saluted, he helplessly returned the gesture.

"All units at standby," he commanded, and the various pilots disappeared into the cockpits.

While the signals starting beeping and the eyes of the mobile suits started flashing red, he glanced at her. She stared steadily back, quite unafraid of his stare. "Yes, Commander?"

"What are your teammates' reactions on the verdict for the pilot, Genevieve Maers?"

"Maers stays, there is nothing to question because it has been decided and it will be done." Her reply was firm, but it held a hint of doubt. So they were talking as well. That the girl who had lost control of her emotions and wrecked quite a bit of their original training grounds was being treated to lightly, all because the Major and Commander Joule were good friends and linked by their Houses.

He scrutinised her and she looked back at him. The contact was only broken when he sighed.

"How do you plan to do this, Major?" He inquired sharply, "We can pit one unit against the other to exercise their maneuvering skills and acceleration drives, you know it's the acid test to see if they are ready to do test-piloting, something Officer Maers was clearly not ready to do at the time when she destroyed nearly a quarter of the training field."

"By all means, Commander."

She saluted again, crisp and detached, and she led him to a particular GOUF, green and quite obtrusive in the rock-coloured stone grounds they would train on.

The wire extension hissed down and he stepped on it, grasping the handle tightly. As he ascended into the cockpit of the test-pilot's, his eyes never once left hers, not until he stood behind the person in the seat, who promptly turned around and saluted. He replicated this.

The monitor showed Shiho entering another GOUF, this one orange, and then suddenly, the eye flashed ruby, and it charged forward in an array of amazing speed. For a split-second, Yzak felt the urge to shoot it down. Instincts borne in way died rarely and if it did, it would die only partially. His hadn't died. They surged in his veins and coursed through his blood.

"Officer," He commanded the girl in the pilot seat, leaning slightly on the back of her chair, "Let's see what you can do."

She obediently rogered his request and pushed the lever forward, and the green GOUF they were stationed in charged forward, similar to the one charging at them. And at the last instant, the pilot he was in charge of commanded the GOUF's arms to pluck the opposite GOUF neatly from the air and throw it under, effectively using the opposite GOUF as a sort of stepping stone.

And so they landed with a bit of thud that resonated through the entire cockpit, quite unlike the absorbed impact the Gundam unit he had piloted would have completed. His heart was pumping very fast and hard, not just because of the abrupt action but because of the beauty of the aerobatic move. He turned down to praise the pilot's control of the unit, but she had already pushed the lever down, and was hurriedly scribbling observations and taking figures the meters showed on a clipboard near the motherboard.

She noticed him staring at her and projected her head upwards, and a lock of honey-coloured hair fringe fell a bit into her eyes. She was quite young, possibly younger than him, but obviously good at her job. She grinned once, showing pointed, white teeth like a feline's, quite endearing actually. Yzak had flipped through the file concerning the test-pilots, and he could only recall one or two apart from Shiho, of course. They were technically his subordinates even though they had another commander who was in charge of them, but he had never seen some of them in his life, and that included this girl. He considered asking for her name but refrained. He had better things to concern himself with.

"Suggestions, Commander?"

"Ease on sudden acceleration, that consumes the fuel too rapidly for your results to be truly accurate. A gradual acceleration of gradient two-and-a-half is more accurate than four point zero," He remarked.

She nodded dutifully and took down more results.

Yzak smiled slightly, so this was a test-pilot's job.

Suddenly reminded of the other orange GOUF Shiho was overseeing, he reached over the pilot's shoulder, and took the liberty of pressing the full view screen. It showed the orange GOUF, quite stationary, as if waiting for something.

Then the visualiser projected a contact screen with a rude beep.

"Simulation to begin in twenty seconds," the opposite pilot said promptly. His voice was quite deep and gravelly, probably an older pilot than this girl. And Yzak wondered what expression Shiho might be having. Probably none at all. Had she asked the pilot to do a counter flip in the air, beautifully executed like the throw the one he was in charge of had performed? Probably not. The test pilots were probably capable of carrying out their jobs perfectly- which brought him back to the realisation and irritation that this was a waste of his afternoon checking on people who were perfectly capable of checking on themselves.

Just a pity then, that Maers had gone and tarnished the reputation of his unit's test pilots. But the damage was done, and by letting her stay, he had to bear the consequences for her as well. He could have refuted the request, but-

"Major Hahenfuss," He said loudly into the speaker, well aware that the test units often owned poor receptive devices because they were prototypes, "There's no need. I want to meet you in the conference room now. The unit can carry on their training; I see no flaw in their abilities or control."

There was a degree of pride as the pilot he was standing behind turned to grin at him again. She was quite pretty, her parents might have paid for that, he thought dryly. But he allowed himself a smile at her and she opened the cockpit an instant later.

He marched out once he had completed the descent. From the corner of his eye, Yzak noted Shiho doing the same. She left some instructions with the pilot in his cockpit, and unable to resist the urge, he turned to face her when she joined him as they strode to the room.

"Why the cease?"

"No questions, take a seat first," Yzak said evenly, pointing to the one opposite him.

"Thanks, I'd rather stand," She replied emotionlessly.

He wondered what was on her case. Women were irritating creatures. First she would refuse to let him come close, then she would bend to him, and then when they were on the job and he treated her the way he would for his subordinates, she ignored all the formalities.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" He asked loudly.

She suddenly looked quite upset. Score one, he thought sourly. How was he supposed to know that she was that sensitive if she liked projecting the emotionless expression, hah, irony, that he had became familiarised with?

She sat down, very stiffly and woodenly. His eyes darkened.

"Look, Major," Yzak enunciated carefully, "I stopped the supervising I was supposed to do today, because I see no reason for it. The upper brass can dictate and reschedule, but you know as well as I do that Maers, while incompetent in handling her emotions where the job is concerned, is a superb pilot in skills, like the rest of them are. What's the point of the simulation and babysitting if the rest aren't in the same situation as she was then, traumatised and upset? Now, they are in perfect condition to pilot, until they get a call from their lovers who want a separation or some other nonsense like that, should you start getting worried."

"Affirmed."

"But you know that already," he confirmed impatiently, tapping his fingers against the polished wood, "I'd rather discuss what to do with Maers. You wrote a report conceding and reaffirming her good track record, and I'm in charge of her case. I've decided that she'll stay, and with my recommendation, the top brass will let this pass. Anyway, they're too busy with Chairman Dullindal's upcoming visit to Armory One in two weeks time to bother about a miscellaneous antagonist in ZAFT, thanks very much. I'm positive that she will stay, if that's what you're concerned about."

"I did what I did," Shiho replied softly, "Because I had pity on her. Why are you doing this for her?"

Why?

"Elementary," He answered coldly, "I have the authority to allow a good soldier to stay. A one-time mistake, grave yes, is still worthy of forgiveness if her record is as stellar as you have proven it to be."

"You have the authority to make a single girl go too. A one-time mistake like hers is still grave and you could have made her go even with the valid recommendation I sent in. So why?"

He paused.

"Because I'm not a bastard and I want you to love me."

The words flew out of his mouth before his mind could filter the words through and stop the dangerous syllables from displaying the full extent of his insanity.

His eyes were dark and he looked positively fuming. Shiho's head snapped up like she had heard a gunshot, and her eyes were wide violet in surprise and some anguish. 'She hadn't expected an answer like that', he decided, 'But she was asking for it without knowing what she was asking for. Stupid women.'

"Don't say that," She rasped, her face a sky of contrasting emotions, surprise in her eyes, strange joy in her lips, pain in her frown, all those were like a myriad that had been stored and kept secret for so long that they suddenly erupted.

"Come now," He retorted impatiently, "When your father arranged the marriage with my mother, it was a bargain of sorts, a political marriage, you know that as well as I do. They've never admitted it to us, although my mother has hinted this to you, but we are no fools, neither you, nor I. All the evidence points to it being political- how my mother and your father arranged for you to come back to Aprilius straight after your father's death, and the documents that my mother signed with your father, those that she kept in a drawer, locked."

"He had business with her once," She retorted.

"Then no need to keep those papers for the dead," He responded likewise, and she glared at him, defeated.

"Cease your denying that the marriage was a political one so that you can carry on your belief that it was one of goodwill," Yzak said harshly, ignoring the flicker of pain that went through her face, "Our parents never had any ideals of that sort. The furthest extent of goodwill would be the only fact that your father approved of me, and that my mother loved you at first sight, the way she would have a blood-daughter."

"I told you already," She breathed, finding herself suddenly standing and backed against the wall, unable to flee but wishing all the same, "I'm no pawn, I've chose the option of annulling it with the authority I have as the sole member of the Hahenfuss House."

He looked down at her and reached for her wrist, bringing it up and holding it to her face, and she squirmed but he ignored it.

"I know. But if I haven't made this clear," a bitter look passed his face, "You were my fiancée in a political marriage until you disowned the agreement, something I don't understand why my mother agreed to let you do. Yet, you deny that we are more involved with each other than two people in a simple political marriage. Cease your stubbornness immediately."

Her free hand shot out to slap his cheek, but he did not waver, and at the last instant, her hand faltered and its fingers crumbled into her palm. He looked down at her and with his free hand, brushed away the first few hot tears that spilled out of her eyes. She defiantly swiped at his hand, but he laughed suddenly and let go.

"I stopped hiding the truth a long time ago," He said finally, still looking at her, "I will not go as far as to insist that you retract your former decision, but I daresay we deserve a chance."

"For the political benefits' sake?" Shiho asked brokenly.

He looked at her quietly. "You father knew that he didn't have long to live when he entrusted you to the Joules in a marriage, in turn ensuring survival of the House, my mother decided that the Hahenfuss House marrying in would strengthen political and economic ties. As far as I can see, I believe this to be the case. Again, all evidence points to this arrangement."

Pain seeped through her eyes.

"But if that were merely the case," he continued softly, "then I would be allowing the annulment at this point. But it isn't, damn it, it isn't. We deserve a chance because the feelings are more than that. The first war proved it, even without my prior knowledge of the political marriage. On retrospect," He laughed wryly, "Was that why you were so reluctant to be near me?"

She managed to nod.

"I'm telling you now," He instructed simply, "I don't want a political marriage for the good of the Joule House and to fulfill my mother's ambitions. I'd rather fulfill my own."

"Our current situation in ZAFT won't let us," She said firmly, suddenly fierce and snapping. He laughed and pulled her to him, rendering her unable to fight back.

"I never said 'now' would be the ripest time. Like you said, the current situation in ZAFT does not work to our favour, not when the Maers case could accuse us both of using connections and breaching conduct codes in ZAFT to save that girl's butt. However," He looked at her with a slight smile, barely visible, "they say time can work to man's advantage."

He kissed her presently, and turned to leave.

But before he moved out, he turned to her, a wry smile playing on his lips, and said softly, "Training resumes."


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD, but that means I get to play around with the characters, no? Please R&R!

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Chapter 23 

He paused at the door. A singing voice- Lacus' Clyne's. The melody was her signaturre one, but it lacked depth today. A recording, perhaps?

No matter.

Yzak knocked and the door swung open, revealing the newly-elected Chairman of the PLANTs- Gilbert Dullindal.

He studied the man before him. Handsome, pale skin, yes, Gilbert Dullindal was a charmer. Persuasive in the soft-approach, a very gentle , calming sort of charisma the late Siegel Clyne had possessed, but it was mixed with some flintiness Patrick Zala had exploited in the control of PLANT. Neither Chairman had survived the war- this one, if he played his cards well, he would have flouted nearly a quarter of the Jachin Due Treaty, but if possible, avoided war. But Yzak Joule was a soldier, high-ranking yes, but still merely a soldier. And the job of the soldier was to listen and learn.

And keep his mouth shut unless it was necessary for words to be spoken.

"At ease, Yzak," Dullindal said smoothly, resting against the doorway, as if hiding something behind him. Yzak knew he had a visitor, the guards had told him so, but he hadn't expected the visitor to be Lacus Clyne.

Granted, he could see very little of the lady with the limited opening and the restricted zone of vision Dullindal was providing, but he had seen a flash of a person and heard her voice, although muffled and somewhat hesitant. The glimpse of blossom pink, he hadn't seen what it was, but Yzak inevitably deduced that it was Lacus' Clyne's tresses, those set her far apart from the other coordinators even in a world like thiers. And he wondered what she was doing here in PLANT, that is, if she was in the room Dullindal was in even. The last he had noticed, she had gotten involved with Freedom's pilot and had disappeared with most of them, he had met the Freedom's pilot once, only after the war, and he had seen both Lacus Clyne and his former nemesis to be close friends, perhaps, even more than that. Yzak had never bothered listening out for more.

He obeyed and glanced at the chairman, noting how lucid his eyes were. Nothing to hide then, or he was a damned fine actor. Either of which-

"The schedul has been arranged for the Armory One visit, the unit assigned to be your envoy is the Echo Unit. Here-"

"My thanks, Yzak."

Strange confidence, even more perculiar the familiarity. It was one of his charms to make men and women alike feel at ease in presence, one of the more outstanding traits Dullindal was known for. And Yzak understood the power of addressing a person in different ways, yet he was subject to Dullindal's own tactics. He tried very hard, not to peer over Dullindal's shoulder.

The man looked calmly at him while, as if daring him to ask any question, and Yzak took the plunge.

"Chairman," Yzak questioned uneasily, "Is your visitor Lacus Clyne?"

There was a short bark of laughter from Dullindal- was he wrong then?

"Come see for yourself, Yzak."

No surprise on his face, quite an inscrutable expression even, eyes a little sharper than normal, and his tone was hardly warning, quite candid even. And so, he took a step back and flung open the door he had previously guarded, and there was a shriek of terror that ricchoceted off the walls of the quarters Dullindal had been given in his visit to the ZAFT headquarters.

Boldly stepping in, Yzak was stunned by the lack of light in the room. Certainly, the lights were kept on, lest the room become unbearable, but those were dimmed, and the curtains were drawn, as if to prevent anybody from looking in. In that sort of room, Yzak observed, mostly only silhouttes were seen. But it was natural, he reasoned, he would have insisted on his privacy the way Gilbery Dullindal was now doing.

He moved past the doorway, and there was a cry of apprehension and indescribable fear.

"Chairman!"

Yzak's eyes darted around to see who the female voice who had cried out belonged to. Then he noticed, huddled in a corner, a young girl, barely his age, with dark, wavy, somewhat haphazard hair, and clad in clothes that made her seem mousy and timid. She was crouching there, as if she had ran away from the chair that was pushed out from behind the handsome desk, and proceeded to scamper, helter-skelter to the corner she now sought solace in.

Perhaps this girl really had.

He looked carefully at her, quite aware that Dullindal had closed the door and locked it, and was standing behind him, as if observing his reaction to being invited to see the visitor, who was decidedly not PLANT's songstress.

He wondered for a split-second, where the flash of pink had met his eye, and then his eyes fell on various sheets of pink paper, laid out in various gradations of colours to resemble a catalogue. Strange things, just like how this girl seemed to be.

'Or perhaps,' Yzak reflected, watching her silently, 'She really is.'

"I ask you not to say anything, Yzak," Dullindal said softly and kindly, but with a sort of warning malice in his voice, "My niece is a shy girl, and she admires Lacus Clyne terribly, I believe you might have heard her singing. I invited you in, just to take away the false belief that the girl singing was Lacus Clyne. I assure both of you," He passed a glance over to the girl who missed it, "Indeed , she sounds like PLANT's songstress, a coincidence, mighty and quite uncanny."

Dullindal then cast a wry look at the girl who was slowly getting to her feet with the help of her hands, firmly planted on the adjoining walls, 'And you certainly thought the person singing was Lacus Clyne."

Yzak stared, not rudely, nor harshly, but it was not a kind one either, somewhat mistrustful, for reasons even he, couldn't put his finger on."Yes, Chairman."

His niece sang well, but it was like Lacus Clyne's voice in the strangest but truest sense of the word. He looked the girl over- not outstanding in looks, not striking enough, if she wanted to be in the industry, her uncle would have to help her.

"Come now, Mia," the Chairman commanded abruptly, striding over to her and pulling her forward, "I told you to have more confidence in yourself. Dare you say you cannot do what you love doing and do best?"

"N-no, sir-"

Yzak and her both caught the warning glance the chairman threw at her.

"Sir, I mean, u-uncle, I just-"

She was stammering, and the hair fell our of her eyes to reveal her face in the light. Yzak noticed, while standing stiffly in the doorway of the extensively large room, that she was rather plain. Pale skin, not the porcelain sort, more of the unhealthy white, and her freckles were distressing, especially against such a white canvas. Her eyes weren't wide and pretty like the girls he had seen, hers were downright small, shifty, if one was blunt, but he wasn't perturbed by the lack of pretty features the girl- Mia, whatever the Chairman's niece was called, had. He wondered where the resemblance was other than the dark hair and slanted eyes, the Chairman was confident and dashing, this girl was meek and rather unobtrusive.

But she managed to glance up at him and smiled shyly. Quite a difference, it made.He wondered why she had been so self-conscious and how she had managed to run and trip into a corner in the three seconds that Dullindal had taken to open the door for him to enter. Extraordinary, really.

"My niece, Mia," Dullindal offered cordially, "And Mia, this is Commander Yzak Joule. I believe you have heard of the Joules."

She nodded, her eyes suddenly wide.

"They have contributed much to PLANT," She said suddenly, finding her tongue, although her voice was very soft and quavery, probably her real voice warped by shyness.

"Thank you Madame." He reciprocated her shyness with equal stiffness, and she shrank a little.

The chairman stood at the side, wathcing the strange exhange, and suddenly smiled. "You may be on your way Yzak."

"Very well, sir." He forced a salute and marched out. Strange place this was becoming. Flouting of treaties, survivors of war criminals, a girls who had Lacus Clyne's famously unimitably melodious voice- insane.

He marched onwards, not bothering to spare another thought for the encounter. He had other things to think about.

A week later, he was roused from his deep slumber by Keyes who was banging his door. And Yzak had just been in a state of nothingness, something he liked, acually. And to be waken from such a pleasant state, that surely warranted a justified cause to shoot his first officer.

The lock snapped, similar to Yzak.

"What the blazes is happening?" He snapped irritably, pulling the door open to reveal a panting Keyes, pale-faced and extraordinarily flustered, rosy in his young cheeks.

He took advantage of his officer's panting to inspect the corridor. Utter chaos. Soldiers running out of their rooms, shouting things to each other, some fully-dressed, some dressed like Yzak- in his informal blue shirt and pants Yzak would have rather incinerated than appeared on parade in. He glanced at Keyes and saw that the officer's shirt was buttoned wrongly.

"I-it's the Armory One visit the chairman made-" Keyes huffed, his eyes wide in his pale face, "It's beome a- a sort of tragedy. We receiver the news just five minutes ago, that the situation there is bad."

He considered inquiring if the chairman had been supplied the wrong hair tonic or something stupid that soldiers were prone to doing, but the air was far too tense. The soldiers had forgotten all codes of conduct and were running helter-skelter, all over, it made him a little edgy as well. And Keyes never lost his cool, Yzak had made sure all those under him wouldn't, but this-

"Elaborate," He ordered expectantly, his hand still on the doorway, but still as tense as ever.

"The chairman went to Armory One to meet delegates, that we all know. But there were three unknown assailants,we suspect them to be either ORB or Earth Alliance members, and they killed nearly half the patrol squad, and the few who got away were either traumatised or badly injured in the scuffle after. It's- it's madness."

Yzak frowned, and snatched his blazer, pulling it roughly over his shoulders. "Report in five minutes."

By the time everyone had assembled, the news had spread like fire, uncontrollable and irrevocable. The chairman had arrived in Armory One on a top official meeting to discuss the issues of the treaty with ORB's Princess, but it had suddenly escalated into a full-frontal confrontation. The news was going around that it had been ORB's doing, although Yzak highly doubted that. In any case, the rumours were not trustworthy and it was too early or too late, whichever, to do anything about it. But the whispers as they assembled made him doubt his belief in the ORB princess. Would the warm, beautiful girl he had seen briefly in the war before turn out to be a cold, ruthless machine?

"You know," Dearka said in a hushed voice, as they stood in their platoons and waited for the troops to be silent once more, "ORB wouldn't bother staging an elaborate set-up with their representative going there to discuss important matters with the chairman just as a decoy so three ZAFT mobile suits."

"Of course," His friend paused heavily, "This is under the assumption that the ORB Representative or Princess, whatever you want to call Mirallia's friend, knows every single thing that is going on in ORB. But even if she didn't, Athrun would have made sure of something- he's been with her since the end of the war, he wouldn't have allowed ORB to do something as heinous as this today. Thing is, I don't even know if Athrun is still living in ORB, he certainly isn't here in PLANT, his father made sure of that. And with all the reports that came in from Armory One, or what's left of it, there were no sightings of Athrun Zala, or mentions of his name either. There were confirmations that the Princess was injured, apparently she got into a ZAKU to protect herself, you know she can pilot quite well, and the Chairman is safe too, but no news of Athrun Zala at all."

They stared at each other in growing dismay, until Dearka passed a weary hand over his face.

"I think the Earth Alliance really did us in this time." He said slowly, but the lack of his usual cheeriness made his would-be-casual words ring hollow.

And Yzak kept silent.

His fists clenched and slowly unclenched.

Again.

The buzzing of the troops subsided gradually. On a normal day, Yzak would have raised his voice and ordered silence to be immediate. But this, he thought ruefully, was no normal day.

If he chose to trust the rumours, then a war was going to be blooming like a cancerous flower, all over the countrysides and in PLANT and everywhere. Trust those bastards out there to make life a misery for all of them. And ORB's Princess, if she had planned this, then Yzak would have judged her wrongly, and he would never forgive her or Athrun Zala, wherever the man was.

He glanced at the eigth division of his platoon- the test pilots.

Her hair was covering her eyes, and he could not see her expression.

"The troops will remain here," one officer said slowly, "The orders have come for the Joule Team to assist in the recovery of Armory One, and the rest will be kept as reinforcements.The team will leave at seventeen hours, eight hours from this instant."

"Affirmed."

They saluted and left.

Hours later, the information had evolved again. The pursuit of the three new-generation, stolen mobile suits was fairly unsucessful, evne though the entire Minerva had been activated with both the Chairman and the ORB Representative on board. He rubbed his eyes briefly, sitting up straight in the seat the was strapped in as the shuttle the Joule Team sped up to meet with the Minerva- was the Chairman making sure that ORB was innocent by keeping its representative with the Minerva? Or had it been pure coincidence that she had joined them?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Dearka savagely flipping the magazine's pages. He wondered what to say.

"Look," He ventured finally, looking at Dearka, "We'll see what we can do once we catch up with the Minerva, we've got to be focused on the task at hand- recapturing the mobiel suits. Don't waste your energy on bothering about the motivations behind the tragedy, those will come later."

A stiff nod. "I was just thinking," Dearka echoed, "it was terribly ironic. The first war really erupted when we stole the five gundams from Heliopolis, now it's showing indications of that, and it's ironic that you are telling me to try and be more calm. That was my job, wasn't it?"

They both grimaced.

"I'm going to the shooting range," Yzak said presently, once the turbulence had stopped, "I don't suppose you'd want to go."

"No."

"Right."

An unnatural awkwardness had developed between the air they breathed, and Yzak knew exactly why. His friend's thoughts, heck, even his, were too scattered and their worries too valid to make them feel secure here. While Yzak dealt with it by strenuous physical activity, Dearka favoured fretting.

But it was more than that. Dearka had told him a week ago, that Mirallia Haww had been planning to go to Armory One to record the important meeting between the leaders of ORB and PLANT. If she had been embroiled in the conflict there, Dearka would-

That explained the magazine's abuse. But Yzak could hardly blame his friend.

His feet eventually took him to the shooting alley. But he saw her there and paused, afraid, for a second, that his tongue would tie itself and she would deem him an idiot not worth bothering with. But his boots had clicked hard against the polished floor of the ship, and she spun around in a flash of crimson and ebony, staring straight at him.

"What's going on?"

A hint of pain, but more uncertainty and tremulousness in Shiho's voice.

"I don't know," Yzak replied honestly, "I don't know."

He had two options- leave, or stay. If he stayed he risked, no, they risked being caught, and that would start a stream of rumours, rumours Yzak certainly did not want. But if he left-

So he crossed over to her and led her to the bench, forcing both of them to take a seat. Her hands were cold, but then the alley itself was cold. She wasn't holding a gun, so she hadn't come here to practice, perhaps, like him, she had came here as an excuse so she could think alone.

She looked quietly at him. "I hope a war won't break out, and this incident, if caused by the Earth Alliance, will not sit well with PLANT. Already, there are thoughts of planning battles, and that is akin to war, or at very least, a catalyst. I am afraid."

"We'll see what we can do."

Hollow words.

"I'll protect you," He said suddenly, very fiercely, "Our battle will begin, and the three new mobile suits have advantages over most of our troop's weapons, but I didn't survive the war to be killed like this, or to see you getting slaughtered in some mindless blood-bath. When the troops are mobilised, stay close. I won't let anything happen to any of us."

He was rambling now, but he meant every word, and she silenced him by raising a hand to his cheek.

"Thank you." She said finally.

He found himself standing, towering above her, smirking slightly. "I expect to see your lauded abilities being put into practice, Major. I called you Housenka once, after I witnessed your abilities, if need be, I will anticipate the very same techniques."

A hand was extended to her, and Shiho took it without hesitation.

And she smiled and stood up slowly. "As I will for you, Commander."


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I do not own GS/GSD. Pity. R&R please.

* * *

Chapter 24 

The skies were pitch-dark, all raven. And then her thoughts were shaken- they weren't even seeing a sky. There was no sky to begin with. Just something they called space. To Shiho, it was called darkness.

Her reflection flitted glumly across and teased her as she placed a hand tentatively on the glass- a personal habit. And she bowed her head and allowed the strands of raven hair to brush the sides of her face softly, again, a personal habit. Shiho didn't like to let anyone see her expression- not even her own reflection.

"Major-," her comrade asked concernedly. Men. They always thought it was their duty to protect women.

"I'm alright," she said hastily, and she made as if to turn around to face him because she knew it would put his mind at ease, but she did not turn around completely either. He received the subliminal message and cleared his throat ever so slightly, and stood quietly, behind her.

Her thoughts drifted to him. How old was he this year? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? Not very much older than her, although every year was granted significant by Coordinator standards, but he was still a child, always caring about others and bothering to ask if they felt fine and worrying about anyone and everyone but himself. She knew he lost both parents and his fiancée in the war; he had that look in his eyes sometimes. And he was but such a child. Certainly, he was of her rank and a supervisor of some sorts, since the time she had been promoted, but he had always treated her like a sister, something she wished he wouldn't do so willingly.

She had nothing to offer but efficiency and dedication to her job, she wouldn't allow affection or any familiarity with him, although he was handsome in a boyish way, easy on the eyes, and well-liked even as a comrade.

She checked the reflection in the shuttle's window-one out of at least three hundred. He was still behind, and his eyes were closed in surrender to weariness of sorts. She understood this well- but to still be concerned for others, this was-

"Major," Shiho said softly, "I think you ought to get rest."

She finally turned around, aware that he deserved at least the basic courtesy. He looked a little surprised that she had given him eye contact, and for a split-second, Shiho felt a tiny pang of guilt. Perhaps she should have simply acknowledged him from the beginning. But they had been on the Voltaire for three days already, and her temper was becoming foul and her strength beginning to draw taut like a rope plied with formidable tension.

"You should rest," She repeated dumbly.

"So should you," He retorted instantaneously, "The pilots will be engaged in battle with the assailants, test-pilots or not, they will all be. You don't need the Commander Joule to tell you this personally."

Her eyes widened at his last sentence- what did he mean?

But the earnestness in his brown eyes and mellow voice, devoid of taunts, half-hints, and callousness eased her suddenly tense shoulders, and she straightened a little and smiled a half-smile.

"I should think not. I-Everyone knows he's-," Her words were hesitant, because she did not know if they did justice to what she meant at all.

Her comrade looked smilingly at her. "I know exactly what you mean. The Commander Joule is a man I truly respect, black tempers or not, and these few days haven't been easy on anyone, least of all the Commander. Major, I think you were absolutely correct in remarking that everyone could see that. With the new information that those terrorists released about the Junius Seven collapse, it's easy to see why nobody's getting any rest these days. I just hope that we can get there in time."

She sighed inwardly, and it was not without relief. Thank God. If he had caught on that she had spoken to Yzak Joule with a little more than what was deemed necessary for a superior to a subordinate, she might have cringed with embarrassment or let the entire secret out of the bag. And nobody, not even Yzak Joule, understood what she kept hidden deep and hidden well.

Her mask, inscrutable and expressionless, slid back on. A reflex, really.

"I think I will stay here a little longer. The darkness brings calm."

"Then I will return."

She nodded stiffly to show her assent, and he left eventually. There was little good in singing to hills and stones, they never came alive. She hoped the approach worked and it did, rather effectively. The more people spoke to her, the more withdrawn she became, and it usually drove them away. But not with Yzak Joule, she lost herself.

"It's not time yet."

Her reflection looked at her quietly.

'Why not?'

"I'm frightened."

Coward.

"First sign of madness- talking to oneself."

She whirled around at the new voice. Dearka Elseman- how she loathed him. Stupid grinning idiot. He was too perceptive for her liking, and too smart for his own good. His mouth too- it was smarter than its owner. Sometimes, she wondered why somebody as somber as Yzak made such good friends with a frivolous man like Dearka Elseman, it was like drinking alcohol with generous dollops of strawberry ice-cream, a complete mess no doubt.

"I always knew you would be the type of man that liked to eavesdrop," Shiho remarked calmly, preparing to stalk off to another corner. She was wary of men like Dearka, far too friendly and far too strange. How did he manage to stay so cheerful all the time?

She didn't know; she didn't want to know.

"Major," Dearka smiled winsomely, pulling her to her original spot so she would be forced to make an excuse to leave at the very least, "Eavesdropping is listening to a conversation between two or more people in secret. You were conversing with you, yourself, and your friend projected in the reinforced glass. Care to share?"

"No," Shiho snapped, suddenly irritable, "And hands off, Officer."

"You read Wilfred Owen," He asked genially, still not letting go, "Don't you Major?"

"I don't read ancient literature of ancient wars, not World War I, not when this is the Cosmic Era for Pete's sake" she said helplessly, still trying to leave but not quite succeeding, "And I don't see why I should answer that question."

He chuckled, and she felt abruptly more and more like a deer caught in headlights.

"Wilfred Owen made use of slant-rhyme, or internal rhyme, if you like," Dearka said thoughtfully, "You created one too."

"I did not!"

Her eyes had darkened; she was irritated with his smiling, good-looking face and the twinkle in his eyes. 'Save that for some idiot girl,' she thought furiously.

"Hands off, Officer," he said seriously, "Get it?"

She paused, this was true.

"Very well," Shiho said finally, "You didn't just come here to talk about rubbish like this, did you, Officer? If you want to talk about something, be my guest. And against my better sense, let me repeat this once more. Hands off, Officer."

A laugh eased its way out of his throat, but he let go and she stood sullenly, but remarkably mollified by the sound of his laughter.

"I came here for a little silence," He admitted to her, "I didn't expect to see you talking to yourself down here, but then I realized silence wasn't really my thing, reputedly golden or not."

She glared at him because she didn't know what to say.

And she might have tolerated Dearka Elseman in her fairer moods, but she was in no such mood to speak of at this instant. It might have been the lack of contact with a particular person for these endless hours of floating around on the Voltaire and waiting to engage in some tiring battle in the endless chasms of darkness, but Shiho preferred not to think about these things.

"We might as well have a little heart-to-heart," He said benignly, leaning back on the railings such that the anti-gravity still allowed him to float above the ground like her, although he supported himself, unlike Shiho, who leant woodenly backwards.

"I don't want to."

She immediately regretted her words. Childish.

But he didn't mind, he laughed, and he looked amusedly at her.

"You're such a child. Why don't you behave like this every time of the day?" Dearka questioned, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Don't call me a child," Shiho said awkwardly, "I'm-I'm just not in a fair mood, you'll have to bear the brunt of it if you stay to talk. And I don't behave like this on purpose, you're just irritating."

He looked even more bemused than before. Damn it.

And then he drawled, deep and comfortably slow, "I think Yzak has never understood you."

She was startled and she looked at him in shock. But he grinned and inclined his head, "I'm not blind precious, you've been quite careful, he's just been Yzak, and I can put two and two together, faster and better than anyone else."

The smugness on Dearka's face made her swallow and snap, "Bollocks. You just want some entertainment."

"Yeah," He echoed flippantly, not really catching the hint that she might have desired that he shut up immediately, "You aren't his first, but he probably cares more than you think. Has he made a move?"

"I'm not a chessboard," She said coldly, "And what's so damn difficult about minding your own sodding business?"

"Look," He said, suddenly serious, "We are friends. Don't ask me otherwise, he's a friend and so are you. I'm not sure when I started noticing some catches, but I know Yzak is affected by something or someone at times, although he doesn't define what the cause is. And you, we've fought in the war together, don't say we aren't friends, not even when you're in this crazy mood and I'm trying to be nice."

She felt guilty, for the second time that day.

"Alright," She conceded with some effort, "I apologise for the childishness. I don't know-"

"Forget it," Dearka said earnestly, "We're friends."

Such a child too.

She smiled awkwardly and said, a bit helplessly, "How do you remain like this all the time?"

His eyes darted to her for an instant. "It helps when you try. I decided that having one Athrun and one Yzak and one less Nicol was an imbalanced equation. Far too much angst and too little hope."

"Hope?" She echoed, a little doubtful, "Does that help make life any easier?"

A pained look glazed his eyes. "Sure, but it helps only when your parents support you in making the most out of your life and never expect anything except for you to be happy. Quite unlike Lord Zala and Lady Joule, I have nothing against them, but their sons have burdens their parents left for them. Remarkably considerate, I suppose, especially for Senior Zala- leaving his mark on the world through insane terrorists who are about to blow up the PLANT his wife's remains are on. I wonder where Athrun is now and what he thinks of all this. Perfect father's day gift to the son, you could say."

He gave a short, wry bark of laughter, but there was anger and vexation simmering somewhere. It was more than apparent.

She had caught sight of the handsome, almost beautiful youth when she had joined the Vesalius in the first war. Of course, she had seen Patrick Zala's son before, well-behaved, courteous, if not slightly cold and stiff, the type which bottled emotions and thoughts, the kind of soldier that was ruthlessly effective and knew how and when to keep his mouth shut. She hadn't tried to converse with him, he had seemed to be too far off in his own world and ideals to be reached, and all they had ever exchanged had been a silent salute, not even a smile. But she had met him again when she had joined the Vesalius, he had returned from a mission, previously thought to be KIA, but he had escaped, with nothing more serious, as far as she could see then, with a broken arm that was securely bound in a white sling.

Walking along the corridors of the Vesalius then, had been her method of thinking in silence. But she had hid behind a corridor that day because Yzak's voice had reached her, and she hadn't wanted to venture near. But she needn't have bothered- he was speaking to Athrun Zala that day as the sun set and the world was dyed vermillion and orange. Thinking back, she hadn't been able to hear what they said, but she saw the exchange of a mutual handshake, initiated by Athrun Zala, she had thought that his smile was very kind, and as he had left, she had seen a glimmer of a red stone, as pure as blood, dangling from a string, securely entwined with his fingers.

She had seen Athrun Zala, his face a mirror of his many deep thoughts, and the blood-red stone had piqued her curiosity. After the war, she had never heard of him after that. At the time when Shiho had caught sight of him, had he been thinking about his father and the war even while being the catalyst to its end in the eventual course of time?

And was Yzak to be the same? And then leave for some place where the will of those before him would never be imposed so brutally upon his shoulders?

Then where would she be?

Dearka was silent, and she felt an imposing need to break the silence that had spread itself like a blanket over both of them.

"How did your parents react when you defected in the war and then rejoined ZAFT after? And your-"

She stopped. Her curiosity seemed inappropriate, but he raised his eyebrows, completing her query.

"Natural girlfriend? I'll deal with the questions one by one. Uh- they thought I died during my time on the EA Archangel, and they were so overjoyed at my apparent survival that they simply neglected my defection. They never mentioned it, and," He smiled wistfully, "it was like the return of the prodigal son once I got home. My father served in the High Council before and during the war, but his heath was declining and my mother made him retire. By the time the war ended, he had grown to used to his freedom to ever want to serve there again, and besides, he hadn't got a need to. When I told them that I'd return to ZAFT, they were horrified, they wanted me to be a politician, not the dog of the politicians, but I do what I do best. The Natural girl, I met her during the war, she was a civilian who eventually became a soldier aboard the Archangel where I was detained for a while, I believe you hadn't met up with our ship at that time. She inspired my defection, actually, although she tends to forget this and calls me a frivolous bastard half the time we meet when she's not trotting all over with her camera. "

He ended his little speech and thereby her irrational distrust of him, both with a wry smile. Shiho found herself listening intently, with her doubts suddenly dissolved and she might have asked more, but he shook his head, hinting that he had said enough.

His eyes were trained on her face, and then he said simply, "You love him."

A long silence.

The darkness was quite unsettling, very few stars to look at here. Nothing there but darkness, like some twilight zone. She felt cold and her arms began to circle her chest in a both protective and defensive measure.

"I don't know sometimes," She said eventually, thankful that Dearka was now looking into the darkness beyond the window, carefully avoiding her eyes, "I hated him once, and then it changed. I still hate him sometimes, I know I do, he's more a man of war than a man, and he lives for the expectations of so many others, so many more than himself, but I think I'd rather he push me away than I to him. I didn't want to become attached to the commander, and he initiated this anyway, not that we've got much in common even now."

She looked away, biting her lip.

"It's settled then,"Dearka muttered, still gazing at his reflection and the galaxy, "Have you ever said anything to indicate this?"

"No," she replied reluctantly, "I tried to show it, but I don't think he really understood. And I shouldn't be telling you this anyway, friends or not, this is all ridiculous in any case. Nothing's been really said, nothing will ever be really said, and this is not the time to think of anything but the battles ahead."

"I like playing Cupid," he remarked jokingly.

"Sod off," she said, but it was smilingly.

"No," he insisted, "I really do. I was just thinking that the situation is really awkward for both of you, he's fulfilling his duties as the Commander of the Vesalius, which I might carefully add, is on its way to a battle, and you are a pilot which is going to engage in battle under his command. Tell me again that this is a huge mess."

"This is a huge mess," She repeatedly blindly, thinking how much Dearka might have liked the sound of his own voice. She knew she never spoke as much as she had just done; he had the uncanny ability in loosening her tongue.

"I knew you'd agree," Dearka nodded, a bit sanctimoniously, but adorable at the same time, "But I get the impression that Yzak would kill if you wanted him to."

"Never," she breathed, too horrified at the memory of the haunted look inYzak's eyes, the way his face had morphed wit the ferocity of a predator and the way his fists had been clenched like rock. "I don't want him to ever kill again."

"Precisely," Dearka confirmed, "He stopped the rampage after a few significant encounters with the Freedom's pilot, I think you might have seen him before, I'm not too sure, but that's the not point. I knew you wouldn't approve of Yzak killing either."

She rubbed her eyes briefly and swallowed. "I hit him- and called him a monster."

"There you have it." Dearka looked somber suddenly.

"It was a mistake. He made a mistake then. I made mine too."

The silence merged with the darkness. And she opposed the anti-gravity and felt the slight click of her boots on the ground and left. She was aware that Dearka hadn't turned around from where he had been, and he was still staring beyond his reflection, projected onto and into the darkness.

But the twinkling in the distance had drawn closer. The flickering lights weren't stars- heavens, no.

Those were missiles.

The voices were suddenly exploding from the spaces above her head, echoing throughout the Voltaire. And men and women were running everywhere and voices were raised, hurried and flustered. The heels of the countless boots hammered the floors unrelentlessly. Another pilots stumbled into her and she was nearly knocked over but she kept on moving forward.

"Voltaire shifting into Code Red in three minutes time. All personnel will please standby on alert."

"Damn it! We finally catch up with the bloody Minerva and they want our entire fleet mobilized right away! What the hell happened to the term 'reinforcements'?"

"All pilots will please report to the engineer room in fifteen minutes for the briefing."

"Commanding Officers to be seated at the bridge in two minutes time."

"Make sure all the mobile suits are functioning before launching, I don't want last-minute rubbish sprouting in front of the Chairman. He's had enough of that already."

"Will all bridge personnel be ready for duty instantly."

"Bring me that report now, I need it, and your job depends on it!"

"Shiho."

She stopped, dead in her tracks. The world around her was still rushing by, just like how it had gone on even when the only person she had called family had laid, pale and whitewashed in a casket draped with black silk and the stench of flowers had began pervading the air she tried to breathe. Her father was buried there, at peace with the world on the remains of Junius Seven. But this-

"Come."

She found herself suddenly in a random pilot's changing room with his hand gripping hers. He was in a hurry, he had already changed into the white pilot uniform, he looked sterner than ever, and she had, like the rest of the ship, heard the announcements, they had their duties to fulfill now, the battle was going to begin very presently, and they had no right to care so much about anything but the fight, he was the Commander Joule, she was just there to pilot and to disarm or kill if she was forced to and-

"Don't think so much, just trust me," He said brusquely, remarkably hurried like she was, so he had read her expression correctly, "And you're not going to go anywhere without my commands, not on this ship anyway."

He looked quietly at her, absorbing the last few seconds of silence. The minute he reopened the door, he would change the world again. the sounds of yelling and instructions being barked and announcements and signals for suits to be launched, all those would pervade the presently still air of the room. And the silence she now craved and received would be wrenched, taken away, and so would she from him and he from her. Their suits were waiting to be piloted, waiting for a human to pilot the cold, mindless machines into battles that mutilated other humans and blew them apart with more than humane and human force.

And Yzak had once enjoyed that victory, never understanding, until it was too late, that it had all been but a Phyrric one. She- she'd never killed before. In a way, she had never been engaged in battles where it was to the last stage where it was someone's life or hers, but today-

Her stomach churned as she gazed into sapphire. He looked confident, strident, but then he was the Commander of the Joule Team, he had to be for their sake, if not his own. And he was a soldier- if he had to, he would still-

She swallowed.

"Don't kill unless you have to."

He quirked his lips and she realized, with a rush, that he was smiling. Involuntarily, she brought herself near to him and closed her eyes, mutely feeling the gloved fingertips brush her hair aside, and his cool lips press on her arched neck. And she shivered and brought a hand to his cheek to reconfirm his presence.

"I'm not a monster."

They embraced momentarily, but he was gone almost instantly.

And he opened the door, not even turning back to look at her, leaving the sudden assault of sound on her ears to stun her for a minute, because he had made the world change again.

* * *

R&R please! 


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD, please R&R.

* * *

Chapter 25 

It was total chaos, a sort of purgatory in a vacuum. She flipped a few switches and the screen registered the surroundings, quickly counting how many mutilated suits there were. Four, five, eight, twelve, thirteen.

"Watch your back!" a comrade's voice ordered in the transmitter, and she noticed, just in time, a large suit-knife, first-degree, type two flying towards another member of the squadron. She frowned and fired a lazer canon to intersect the rather crude weapon.

But Shiho had no time to hear the breathless thanks of her comrade, she was busy fighting off the fiends who had decided that life was too peaceful to let live and pulled Junius Seven down, but literally. Dearka had described them with a single word, and Shiho couldn't agree more, those bastards were really having it too good for them to be satisfied with the peace those who had died in the First War had fought to give. She wanted to find them and slap them personally, but this was the best she could do, stop Junius Seven from becoming a mamoth bomb onto Earth and watch her back.

She checked the radius, five destroyed suits, no sign of life, team members all fine, no specific instructions except to tackle any opponents that were causing the havoc on the remanants of the destroyed PLANT, and disable or kill those in the way. The coast was clear, there were no assailants so far, just those who had been taken down by the other members of the squadron, a few by Dearka and a few by Yzak. But the radius of the PLANT was behemoth, but then it was excpeted to be. She watched her members spread out and assumed her position, breathing heavily through her nose. There was something more to be expected from all this, it was too simple to be true.

And then she heard Yzak's voice ringing through her system, a cry of anger, "The GINNs are returning!"

The screen registered this, there were at least a dozen headed in her way, and their weapons were out. So they would take care of her before returning to their job of unstabling the PLANT, would they? She gritted her teeth, they were supporters of Patrick Zala, radical, extremists, fools, her mind spat, fools.

Hiding behind the eight portion of the PLANT's radius was sufficient for now; with the enemies thatutilised ZGMF-1017M2 GINN Hight Maneuver Type II units, speed in attacking them would be a waste of time and effort. Yet, their suits were the test-types her research team had contributed to, and now they were taken in ridiculous, unscrupulous exploits. And she seethed with anger, how the rogue ZAFT faction could think so little of the peace they could have if they could only forget about the past grieviances.

A series of switches and key-locks were enough, and the canons were warming up. Shiho prayed she would have enough time before those behind the seventh radius discovered her. A quick locating scan showed they were moving closer, and her teammates were already engaged in their own battles.

"Damn!"

She could disarm them manually, one-to-one combat, but there were better ways to conserve energy and take the enemies down, and they were coming swiftly. She peered down at the screen, ignoring the bead of sweat that soaked her fringe to her forhead beneath the helmet. One had paused, and suddenly, all were moving swiftly in her direction. So they had found her.

Waiting was nervewracking, but she kept her eyes wide open and her fingers poised for aiming. They were moving very quickly towards her spot, and a stray missile sped past her suit, inches away.

"Now!" She cried, and the canon exploded at her finger's command, firing multiple shots simultaneously, as she panted slightly, silently watching the screen with hitched breaths as they hit target after target and the screen registered their imminent disarming. Her balsam-flower attack had been successful, but only by virtue of stealth and tactic.

The report, she reminded herself.

"Unit seven has taken down nine units," she said in the most even voice she could muster, "Does the Commander read me?"

There was a moment or two of disturbing silence, perhaps he was still engaged in battle, and so she waited, still keeping her eyes on the tracking device but her ears open for Yzak's voice. And finally, the communicator crackled abruptly and impudently, and she stiffened a little.

"Read, Unit Seven," she heard him reply firmly, "Job well done. Proceed with plan."

She imagined him, tense and rapt in his mobile weapon, his fists stiffened like all of theirs, around the controls.

"Roger."

The reports were flying in, fast, too many, too disheartening. The squadron was tiring, there were only so many of them, and there seemed to be a hornet's nest of rogues, countless and unstoppable. The members were ebing outperformed, and although not extremely, the odds were not in the squad's favour.

She heard Dearka asking hastily, "Do we leave it to the Minerva and send our troops back to recover?"

There was a long pause as they waited for the Commander's orders. It was a silence filled with tension, and they could imagine the gears of his head whirring. There were no fatalities so far, a few casualties, yes, but not too many, and not too serious.

"No," Yzak finally replied, "We can hold out a little longer, I don't believe the rogue faction has any more to send out, and if we leave, the Minerva will not hold out, not even with Athrun Zala on their side."

There was a collective gasp. The name of another war hero who had fought side by side with their commander was encouragement, to say the least. And Shiho found herself gripping the controls with renewed vigour, perhaps they'd be finished with the enemy if they bore the battle a little longer, and then they'd go back to the ship and rest the strain off.

"They're coming again!" Dearka called swiftly, "We must move."

They did, and the attack was furious, but their defence was upped with the increased morale. Yzak had planned this. He smiled to himself as he watched the squadron move into their positions, they were highly organised and effective. He waited for a stray unit to fly and attack him after getting through the second line of defence, and with a deafening roar, he swung the mobile weapon's sowrd at it, disarming its legs and hence removing its mobility.

He glanced around, and with a cry of anger all too late, he watched as the Girty Lue sped into sight. So they had joined, had they?

No doubt, they would be on the rogue ZAFT faction's side, but they would serve no problem as long as the Minerva could manage them, only-

Yzak cursed. The three stolen mobile suits were being dispatced already. One immediately engaged the Impulse in a ferocious headlock, the other two slashed at another unit which he immediately recognised as one of his own squad's. Taken by surprise and insurmountable odds, it fell and burst into debris. Gone.

A roar of pure hatred ripped itself from his throat. He had disarmed, not killed, and yet they showed no mercy to his subordinates.

"Yzak!" Dearka was hollering very hurriedly, "Watch it!"

He spun the weapon around and sliced, very neatly and precisely, an arm off a mobile suit.

"Thank you," he said morosely to Dearka's worried face, "You watch your back too."

He turned back and stared with apprehension and horror as the screen registered nine of the subordinates' weapons being destroyed. The Girty Lue's stolen suits were stolen for the right reasons then, the Chaos, Abyss and Gaia, those were clearly superior, and they were responsible for tipping the balance in the rogue faction's favour. And his suboordinates, hey were not defined on the tracker for a minute longer.

Yzak had made a mistake.

He felt a red haze covering his eyes and urged his own weapon forward. It charged straight in the midst of the ongoing battles and shoved itself very brashly amongst the remainding opponents. He was hacking and chopping more furiously than he ever had since the first war, but he took care not to aim for the cockpit. One by one, they fell, and yet, he scarcely realised that the ZAKU was now missing the lower section of the fourth limb. He fought on.

The Impulse was doing the same, knocking suit after suit out of the line of action like flies, and he could tell that Athrun was doing exactly what he was best at. But the comfort was scarcely as it should have been, not when the squadron's members were being pulled out of the fight one by one. The latest report in the last hour had been that eight were gravely injured and more than couple killed in action.

He prayed she wasn't one of them, but the radar showed no sign of her weapon in action, or it's registered presence, for that matter.

His fingers tightened around the controls, and he opened the pathway of communication, staring at Dearka's weary face, and he asked stoically, "Report?"

Dearka's voice was tight. "We've lost near to three-eights of our squadron."

His friend didn't say anymore, but the guilt lay in the air.

"Alright," he replied, vexed but fighting to keep in control, "The fighting's getting fiercer, but we're almost through.It's going to end soon."

There was a difficult pause, they knew which side was winning. But at what expense?

"Concentrate on breaking Junius Seven and assisting the Minerva," Yzak commanded to the pilots, "And do this as best as you can, for the fallen's sake."

The voices of the remainding echoed in a resolute affirmative, but the air was tense and filled with hatred. He looked forward and tried to visualise Shiho, but her weapon had been taken from the battle as it lost power and was sent back to recuperate in the mother ship. Dearka and himself, he thought desperately, they were nearly to that extent as well. But-

"Not just yet," he hissed, and he fired the remaining missiles and canons into the mounting wreck with abysmal debris drifting solemnly in it's orbit- Junius Seven, proof of the enmity of the Coordinators and the treachery of the Blue Cosmos.

He watched as the blinding light drew further and further and made an explosion in the circumference. The Minerva and the Vesalius were at the other end, doing the same. And the pilots of the Minerva, along with the Joule squad, were relentlessly attacking it, pushing at it, fending off enemies on one end, brekaing the fallen PLANT on the other. But he knew, they all knew, that it was descending, pushing it's weight down, the draw of earth's gravitisation pulling nearer and nearer.

But the final push broke it into two, and within seconds, the squadron was attacking it, trying to dismantle it into smaller pieces. But it wasn't as simple as taking it apart, it was behemoth even with it's broken front, and as the Minerva and the Vesalius pushed below the debris, he noticed the tracker announcing Shiho's presence. So she had managed to come back into the battle.

The darts of her attack were launched everywhere, to the sixtieth degree and to the hundred and twentieth.

"Launch all! Launch all!" He screamed to his suboordinates, and they did. An ecstasy of fumbling and switching registered the distance of Earth's orbit and the falling debris, was calculated at less than ten kilometres.

"All units to form ten lines, division per kilometer, fend off all pieces!" He hollered, jamming the communicator with his might.

They spread out, and began shooting at the pieces that were moving into their arena, resembling nets of mobile particles that disin. The Minerva and Vesalius were still breaking the smaller pieces down, making it more maneagble to fend it off from Earth's orbit, and yet, Yzak thought angrily, the deadly game of badminton was useless, even with all their effort pulled in. The balsam attack was being utilised over and over again, pieces of debris were being broken down and reshuffled in the front lines, then the quarrters, then the second last, and then his line.

He swiped at six pieces that flew into his division, and realised with a jolt, that he and Dearka made the final line of defence. There were too many pieces, too extensive. He watched helplessly as a beam missed one and the debris hurtled down to earth. There were no more lines of defence.

The Second Bloody Valentine would now commence.

He drifted high above the Earth, watching with dread and pain, as it entered and pushed through the Orbit, the utmost, final line of defence. It passed effortlessly in, it was barely dented by the force surrouding the world.

Vaguely, he could tell that Dearka was swearing and hissing abuse, but it was done. There would be a meteor shower tonight.

And now, the Earth would wake to its own screams.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I don't own GS/GSD. R&R please.

* * *

Chapter 26 

He refused to see anyone after the meeting to count their losses and plan on what to do next. It was impossibly magnificent in a morbid way, the manner he conducted himself, suberbly cool, composed and in charge of the situation. Very little cracked through the veneer of ice that Yzak laid upon and over himself, and the soldiers scurried to follow his orders, glad that an able leader was taking charge, and they relied tremendously on him without even realising why.

Only later, did he return to his quarters, silent and his eyes darkened like individual storms in each socket.

Even Dearka knew enough to leave him alone, but strangely, and foolishly enough, Shiho did not leave Yzak to brood over their defeat.

So it had been a Pyrric Battle, if they were optimistic to call it that even. Granted, they'd helped the Minerva to break down the behemoth mass that was the unstable Junius Seven wreck, but then the debris, jsut as they had watched with wide horror, struck into Earth's Orbit. The report had came in half-an-hour after they'd returned, subdued, to the Vesalius. But then, Shiho told herself fiercely, it couldn't be helped anymore. The key was to move on.

But first, the troops had to rest, they were all half-dead from the intensity of the battle, a couple wounded, a lot dead-

She knocked on his door.

"Who's that?" His voice was abrupt and sharp.

"Shiho."

There was a long silence, and for a while, she thought he would ignore her. Her heart, against her will, became heavier than it had been upon retuning to the Voltaire and watching with a pain they both had to hide, as the dead were accounted and the injured smiled weakly through their tears and blood. But the door was suddenly flung wide open, and Yzak was in front of her.

The first thing she noticed was the pain in his eyes. They mirrored her own.

"May I come in?" She asked quietly, quite forgetting the regulations of the ship and the stigma of being seen like this. He considered this but eventually stepped aside and closed the door after her. Both were too caught in their thoughts to be thankful for the lack of another being in the vicinity.

Was this unfair? She thought miserably. To be like this, with the burden of lives on his shoulders and for him to hold all together even as he broke apart from inside?

"It isn't your fault," Shiho said finally, looking up at him as they stood emotionless and carefully apart from each other, "Nobody expected this, and our comrades died honourably."

Instead of becoming less tense, his face was wrought with rage and pain more pronounced than ever, and he kicked the chair at this desk, sending it in a flying stunt where it crashed against the wall and landed in an ungainly manner on the ground, unbalanced and near to breaking down completely.

"If it wasn't my fault," He roared, "I wouldn't be like this!"

His eyes were flaring slits of stormy blue ink on a mask of white paper, and she flinched involuntarily, wondering if she was making a mistake by being there. Perhaps her presence frustrated him more than comforted, and the worrying though made her lose her composure as she watched, fear flickering slightly across her impassive face.

He noticed this and seemed to cage the beast clawing in him, and weakened, he slid, his back against the wall, and sat, his shoulders slumped against the surface, as he closed his eyes to prevent tears he found to be a sign of weakness from overflowing. Gradually, however, he was able to open them and saw Shiho was slumped next to him as well.

"You don't have to be here," He said roughly, trying not to look at her, "I'm sorry I shouted."

"It wasn't at me," she replied simply, "I know this and it's enough."

He was quiet, and then he said very mutely, "Thank you."

She nodded briefly, this was all she needed, neither an encouragement or discouragement to be there, but this was enough to make her stay. Very gently, she took one hand and held it for a while, and then when he didn't respond, she decided to bring it back to her side, and found, to her immense surprise, that he had locked it in his grasp instantanously.

"Don't go," he said in a very small voice, suddenly tired and ill at ease, "Stay here."

His eyes were filled with tears he was ashamed to see in the blur of the room and ashamed to let her see. A deep, gripping frustration gnawed at him, and he could have killed himself for the indignity. And suddenly, he felt like the child who had hid in a little hollow at the base of an oak near the east side of the lake where the servants would not find him and bring him back to apologise to his mother for being rude.

She smiled, it was a very earnest smile and immensely gentle, and then nodded, too overcome to speak.

And slowly, he lifted his head after what seemed like eternity, and leant forward, and this time, she raised her face to his, welcoming his lips to her own, hesitant but willing. The kiss was earnest and a strange urgency filled in both of them, flowing through their bodies until the world consisted of only that little room and the way they were entwined as an entity and a single being. His tears stopped soon, but hers began, and he gripped the ends of her long hair in his white fist, like ink in marble, and wound it slowly around the fist until she could not move her head in any way he did not force her to. And when the tears welled and collected in her violet eyes, and then flowed down her cheeks as she sobbed in that peculiar, raw joy that they both shared, he wiped them away with his wrists and kissed her on her red mouth, over and over again, until they were overcome with passion and the headiness of the world.

It was strange, Shiho thought much later, comfortably nestled against him and hearing him breathe in a deep, peaceful slumber, that troubles and battles, spilled blood, were the key to bringing the both of them together. Hadn't it been like this? First her father's death, and then the First War, and now the Second.

She could not think anymore, because he now roused from his sleep, shaken by something unexpected, and gazed at her with an inscrutable expression on his face. A smile erupted on her own, and she tenderly traced his cheek with her fingers, their paths stopping only when he caught that hand with his own and put it near his lips to touch.

"What happens from now on?" She whispered, feeling a bit insecure as they huddled against the side, a swift glance at the end of the bed revealed that her red uniform looked blatant and stark against his white coat at the side, and she was irrevocably reminded of their duties in ZAFT and the paths they were to follow, only that the world had changed again and she was now entirely, and completely his.

"We'll go on fighting," He murmured near her ear, stroking her head like the way he would to placate a child, "I've recieved information and official orders that the Voltaire will be put off duty for a month, depending on how the situation is, our duty's been completed for now, and we'll see where this leads us."

"I'll go on fighting," she said quietly, sliding an arm around his neck in a comfortable embrace and letting him pull the covers over them, "And in this month, when we're back in Aprilius, I'd like to do a few things of my own."

"Such as?" He asked teasingly, both forgetting the world that existed beyond the ones that were intertwining before their eyes, their very own ones, "Does that include being with me?"

He didn't waste time waiting for her answer, he was seized by a rekindle of stormy passion and jealous possesiveness and therefore seized her.

Quite startled at his blatant words and unbridled ways, quite unlike his former wall of composure, she sat up straighter, stiffening, but a second later, was forced back into his arms as he tucked the heavy, luxurious quilt between and under the space of her arms. He laughed a bit, but all the same, offered, stoic and quiet, "I mean it, you know."

She stared up, defiantly into his face, and he laughed a bit and teased at her neck and hair.She squirmed, biting back the sounds that were trying to force their way through her lips until it was all unbearable and a gasp ripped itself from her throat. As if to reward her, he bent and kissed her forehead until she was able to breathe normally and made a pointed remark in return, as if to punish him.

"Imagine Dearka's face," she said seriously, and he chuckled sarcastically and pressed her closer, replying, "I don't really give a damn about the rest of the world if you're going to be with me."  
"The soldiers will be surprised," Shiho retorted slyly, "They say you prefer Dearka to any other woman."

"They'll be sorry then," He said calmly, not bothered by anything with her head resting on his chest, "I don't bother doing explanations very much. We've gotten away from this battle," He said soberly, "With the best we could offer, and Chairman Dullindal has offered his thanks."

"He's sending aid to those affected areas, isn't he?" She asked nervously, pulling the blanket nearer, as if her vulnerability was equivalent to the pain of those the debris and fragments of the war had harmed barely a day ago.

"Yes," Yzak said thoughtfully, holding her shoulders, "I imagine EA and ORB will be pleased."

"I wonder what Athrun Zala thinks about all of this," Shiho interrupted abruptly, "He fought with the Minerva, didn't he?"

"He did," Yzak replied heavily, "Which makes me wonder what the hell is runnning through that mind of his. A ship like that would mean that he's rejoined ZAFT, and that means he's left ORB and possibly the service of the ORB government. I imagine Cagalli Yula Atha is still there, at this point, she wouldn't have followed him."

"Cagalli Yula Atha?" Shiho asked in amazement, lifting her head off his chest to stare at him, "You mean-?"

"Since the First War," Yzak told her simply, "Although how they met is always something I cannot fathom, or would want to."

He grimaced and she laughed, curling up, reaching for her warmth, and then when she finally decided on getting up, Shiho laughed even when he protested.

"We'll be reaching Aprilius very soon," She reminded him, "And we report in ten minutes."

"Damn," He grumbled, sitting up and straightening his clothes to look less untidy. She had already done this and was neatening her hair and adjusting to standing again.

"I'd like to meet your mother," She said quietly. And the lighthearted mood transformed itself into a dark one as his eyes narrowed and he stood promptly, causing the difference in height to be quite pronounced, "No! I won't let her interefere with this and-,"

"Please," Shiho interrupted pleadingly, "I need to. We cannot be like this without her blessing."

"Blessing?" He snorted, his mood fouled by the mention of Ezalia Joule, "I can hardly believe she'll dole helping of those out when I ruined the plans she had for me to have Diamini as a wife!"

Shiho flinched. "And that is why I need to earn it even more."

"Do you?" He retorted fiercely, "I scarcely imagine so! You're good enough for me and that's just it. My mother may have other plans, but like I said before, I really don't give a damn. I'm independent enough to live on my own even if she disowns me for not marrying some hyena she decided was good enough, and I would give up the House."

'For you,' He added silently. He watched her blush, reddened under her pale skin, and wondered if she knew he was determined and not in the least rash.

"There's no need for that," She said hesitantly, "But there's a need for me to meet Lady Joule."

He would have fought on, it was not Yzak's nature to let things go on a course other than his own, but she flung her arms into his circumference and nestled her face in the crook between his shoulder and chin, and he found himself stroking her upturned cheek with something blossoming in his heart that could have been triumph. But Yzak knew it was more than a callous victory and conquest, Shiho Hahenfuss was no trophy for him, although it might have been easier to see her as one. Loving a woman took too much energy and feeling, he had reasoned once, he was better off with his comrades and their guns, rather than getting trapped with someone he would fear to lose in a battle as he risked his life fighting and killing others before they killed him.

Love to him, was a decadent thing.

He stared at her, fully-dressed now, and grumbled, "I feel like a bloody hedonist."

She ignored him and peeked slightly out, just to observe the corridor. It was as empty as before, since most aboard the Vesalius were sleeping. And she scampered out and he reached out for her but didn't follow eventually. But a smile had settled comfortably across his face.

"Even when you meet Lady Joule," He said indifferently to the wall, knowing she wouldn't be able to hear, that she was already on her way, "I won't allow you to leave me."


	27. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I own nothing of GS/GSD. R&R Please.

* * *

Chapter 27

"Yzak Joule, Commander of Voltaire, Nazca-Class Destroyers, you will please do well to report."

Please? Since when had any superior used the word in the same sentence with his rank in it?

He raised his hand, palm facing his face, to his forehead. This was the necessary salute to all those sitting in places above him, and he did it with the stiffness laced with a graceful movement that was the result of protocol and confidence.

A murmur was heard. He had saluted with his left hand- the right hand was still under his coat, a soft throb beneath the nearly-camouflaged white of his bandages. He looked at them, and his eyes seemed silver in the light, cold and emotionless.

The High Council was dressed in their usual blue today, a hybrid of turquoise and slight navy- save for Gilbert Dullindal. Yzak's eyes met his, and the man smiled, a gentle, unassuming smile, making Yzak feel as if his salute had been unnecessary. But then, this Chairman was always the gentleman, and there was an uncanny look of distinct comprehension and compassion that made the entwinement nearly chivalry. No wonder the people of PLANT had been bought over.

"Sir." He saluted again.

They flashed him an apologetic smile, and something stung in him and didn't want to let go of his entrails. War was on its way. Because his team had failed, because the Minerva had been too late, because those Blue Cosmos bastards had sticks shoved up the places where the sun didn't shine, and because mankind didn't like taking history lessons. He wanted to hunt the Blue Cosmos down and make them see what they had done.

"A full report of your team's work these few weeks, if you will."

Yzak raised one thin, silver cynical eyebrow. These men were clearly not trained in a military, or they would have never made requests like these, they'd have barked out their orders and demanded no less than he barking his reply back. But they were smiling weakly and proffering tea cups, chamomile, if his nose was correct. Politicans- Lord, he revered them.

"At eighteen hours," Yzak began crisply, "We moved from point zero-point-fifty-three to the battle grounds, and team members pilot Hitore and pilot Kenn were in the frontlines. They were unable to take the GINNs down, unfortunately not due to skill or lack of expertise, but the sheer number of the prevalent. Then at eighteen-thirty hours, the-,"

"No," The chairman interrupted, "Stop first. What happened to the pilots?"

Yzak frowned. Details like these were never meant to be included. Nobody here was supposed to know what soldiers went through in battles, what kind of wounds they bled themselves dry on, and how their faces were carved in terrific, terrible grins as they died screaming in pink lights. They would never make firm decisions again, if only these politicians knew. But the Chairman was waiting.

He squared his shoulders. "Team pilot Hitore is recuperating in the Aprilius General, and pilot Kenn has been reported as a KIA case."

There was no pain when he said this. He did not want to feel pain for these poor men. They deserved no sympathy, because that was scorn for those who had only wanted peace.

"I see." Dullindal said gravely. "Let us hear not of the battle's progress, but of the casualties and wounds experienced. These are things the men and women in this room are unaware of and should hence cease to be from this moment onwards. Name them, Commander- they deserve at least their names being echoed through this very room."

Frustration welled up in Yzak's body, but he remained motionless. Theses men would never understand, because knowing was a different type of infinity away from understanding.

"Roger." Yzak said plainly. "These are the deaths as followed: Royal-Class Pilots Dil Rossare, May Hitore, Watari Kenn, Teal Sivital, Gemm Kogentaro, Phyria Jun. Second front pilots Lingui Raffeto, Hayden Worth, Venius Yayoi, Maynard Castle, Hamilton Ned. And Head Engineer Symbo Frassier."

He watched with some black, frustrated satisfaction, as the room's faces became palates of horror and anguish. Naming the dead- what a world of difference. He saw Dullindal's face- the grave expression hadn;'t changed, but there was something in the eyes, eyes that glinted with a satisfaction that mirrored Yzak's own.

"Head Engineer," Someone said very weakly, "What's he got to do with this?"

Yzak's expression did not change. "He was killed in the damage the ship took from the opponent's mother ship."

"Details," The Chairman said sharply.

"He was thrown backwards and hit his head. The impact sustained was sufficient for him to suffer an instant hemorrhage and blood loss was fatal. He was sixty-eight."

There was a uniform, inhaled breath of misery and shock.

"Injuries," Dullindal prompted. "And yourself, we know you injured your arm."

He ignored the concern etching on the Council's faces. He did not need their pity either.

"Those who suffered heavy injuries are as follows: Pilots Obitsu Mone, Ark Prism, Hyaweh Mibu, Tomoe Roane, Majin Neuro. Those who suffered light injuries are as follows: Pilots Tantei Myojin, Shion Saori, Shiho Hahenfuss."

He said the last name with something that tasted bitter in his mouth. Bile, perhaps.

"You see," Dullindal said unhappily, "We know very little of those who fight and die for us. We who do not fight in the way these men do, must fight in a way to prevent them from doing so."

And the whole room was rapt with attention. Such an influential, powerful speaker was Gilbert Dullindal.

Yzak blinked but closed his eyes longer than normal. When he opened them, the council hardly noticed the soldier clad in white, standing some distance away from them, respectfully but stiffly.

Someone was crying. He did not feel remorse, nor did he feel a twinge of regret as another member escorted her out. She was a young one, he reasoned, only ten years older than he. But he was willing to bet that she would resign soon- being naïve was not a quality for someone who issued orders that sent men to their deaths.

They soon dismissed him, and he knew that once he left, the room would be filled with outrage and plans and newly-fired determination to prevent more deaths. More talks.

He hoped, with a genuine sincerity, that they would succeed at dong what those before them had failed to do. And that was to bring peace to those who had not found theirs yet.

But he had found a little- and that little was in thinking about her when he could. It wasn't often, he had to admit that to himself, but her presence made something tight in him unloosen, although she left a gash and an anguish in him he'd never quite fully known. Since they'd returned to Aprilius, he had made a decision and chosen a path that was unthinkable for generations of Joules- even before they had not yet taken steps to becoming Coordinators.

He had left the Manor.

It wasn't unreasonable, he reasoned, moving outside and trying to live as it was.

It wasn't unreasonable that the Voltaire's members were put on a month's worth of leave until further discussions and decisions were official.

And it wasn't improbable that she had been frightened away from that one time when he'd gotten close enough to her to be entirely at loss at anything other than to be comforted by her and to love her with that gripping insanity he experienced mostly when he fought for his life. But he had crushed the possibility of her escaping, the way he'd promised to himself. By being with her, she would never find a way to leave.

But being the Commander was not a job- it was duty. And when he'd searched for her face, she'd been gone too. She never answered his calls- but then, he called only very rarely, and she never answered when she was working in the laboratory, which he was sure she was already doing in their original camp. Doubt and duty was a potent dissuasion. And the evenings were the only difference in their lives.

But Yzak wasn't the only busy person. Dearka was up to his nose in paperwork and reports, and two nights ago, they'd met up for a drink or two, although the usual cynicism and merriment from each of them had been a thin façade upon what was to come. And neither of them mentioned it anyhow.

He closed his eyes, not willing to pull his hand across them, but not willing to remain motionless, because his body and mind was weary. However, Yzak Joule did not like to show weakness- a mere three hours of sleep was nothing to dissuade him from working through the reports although he was technically off duty.

He thought of the blood his hands carried in spite of the countless of times he had washed his hands. He thought of the blood on his ancestors' hands and the poison from their lips as they had sent so many others to die on battlefields and in empty darkness they would never be asked to experience for themselves. But the Joules had been a political stronghold since the beginning of their times. He was only another link in the chain.

"You would be so proud of me." He said to the wind, thinking of someone else.

And the Chairman had called him back for a report, a one-time thing, he had been assured, but Yzak had been convinced for as long as the duration of the blink of his eye.

"Yzak."

He turned around, and his eyes widened.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded, stunned.

She looked at him, unsmilingly, although he was quite convinced that she was not unhappy. He could see that his mother looked none the worse for wear, but a closer inspection revealed faint lines around the sharp blue eyes and a slight subsistence of something.

"Business trip." She said calmly. "And I should be asking the same of you. What are you doing here?"

Against his will, he answered. He could never go against her.

"A full report on the Junius Seven incident." His words came haltingly, however.

She noticed, but pretended not to.

"Yes," She said thoughtfully. "Your squad was involved. And young Lord Elseman too?"

He nodded rather stiffly. "He was injured quite severely, but the doctors promise a recovery with nothing short of perfection."

"Good." Ezalia Joule said sharply, "I do not know how to answer to the Elsemans if mishaps are not met with the right measures."

Then her expression softened. "How are you?"

He looked at her. "Fine. And you?"

"Swimmingly." She said, a trace of faint irony lifting in her voice. "But of course, you knew that, didn't you? There are few places the Joules' influence have no control over. And being banished has not banished me."

"Mother," Yzak said hotly, "You weren't banished. Just a- a temporary request of,"

"A long holiday. For nearly a year." She said thoughtfully, and her eyes laughed at him, "Quaint to say the least. No matter. I do not mind. It is high time that the white letter is handed in to the current council I have no dealings with, nor hope to have whether now or in the future."

"I understand." He replied. He saw weariness in her eyes and a deadened fury that would have seemed impossible only a few years ago. But Ezalia was a dying tempest. As terrible as it might have been, she lived for the hunt. When the hunt was over, she died with it. And now, she did not allow herself to join the second hunt, and in doing so, killed what little of the fury she had in her that had allowed her to live for so long. This was simply because she had lived for revenge and had borne results from it.

He was the result of that fury. And he knew it. And likewise, he had lived for revenge, only that revenge had seemed so easy in the past and yet not quite as simple now.

"I will serve the military as long as I can with these abilities and the power the Joules have."

"I'd rather you be the one controlling the military." She said calmly. "A politician that was cleared of the battlefields. A selfish role that demanded sacrifices while the role required a fraction of the blood washed on fields."

"You should have stopped me from enlisting then." He replied. They understood his words. He would never be able to sit and know that he was sending men to die without having the responsibility of dying with them if necessary. It was beyond him now.

She sighed. "Why do you think I tried so hard to make you stay out of it?"

He looked away. "I don't want to talk about the past. What sort of business trip do you have?"

There were three options she could choose, and Yzak knew that. He waited, waiting to unriddle her answers, either one of three or a combination of all. The first would be for her to insist it was a business trip he had no business to know of, the second would be that she was here for personal business that he had no reason to meddle with, and the third, to ignore him.All explanations would be of the same nature- for Yzak to mind his own business.

He suspected that she would offer the third.

"I'm recounting some liquid assets," She said delicately. Yzak knew what this meant. Somewhere in the world, businesses would collapse in a domino pattern. His mother did not and would not have it in her to do this on purpose- either there was a real need to cut the losses, or somebody had not fulfilled his part of the contract.

He nodded. "I think you'll need to move swiftly. There is a war coming."

She looked at him with a slight smile. "I'm already here, aren't I?"

Her informants had moved quickly too. They had already known of this- heck, Yzak was convinced that some worked in the highest-ranking troops. And his mother was truly the last purebred Joule of the entire line- she had not married within the family.

"Mother," Yzak said reluctantly, "Be safe."

Her eyes shut, and then opened, not in surprise, but with a softened pain. "Alright. And Yzak-,"

He turned. She was standing in her black coat, her hair whipping in the wind, and there was a mourning in her.

"Keep her safe."

He did not try to mask his grim surprise. There were many informants that she had, some were servants, the key one her butler, and Shiho probably even worked with a few of them in the ZAFT premises.

He bowed. When he looked up, she had disappeared into the settling evening.

That night, he did not return to the Manor. But then, he hadn't since a week ago. It was not an easy thing to do when he had a place only she and he truly knew of. And the evenings in the winter were always marked by lighted warmth in the Manor- but Yzak preferred the strange comfort of the darkened, gloomy apartment Shiho had. Of course it made no difference- Plant was always regulated well enough for there to be only a light change in weather, but when it was winter, it was winter all the same.

He did not bother to press the doorbell. He tapped it once- that was the trick. It made a soft buzzing noise, and he heard a cat mewing inside. There was an unhurried set of footsteps that moved in the direction of the door, and he shook his head. Her walls were too thin. And yet, it disturbed nobody, for she had no neighbors. Only a fool would rent a God-forsaken place like this, or someone who wanted absolute silence.

The door cracked open, not because she was suspicious, but because the hinges were rusted. But just a line revealed her flushed face and the swing of the ponytail. So she had been cooking.

Yzak smiled slightly, and stepped in, not bothering to look around. Whether there was someone following them or not would not really matter- Ezalia Joule had probably known what he was doing since he had started.

"Welcome home."

Her eyes were soft. She smelled of sugar and cinnamon- cookies, perhaps. He brought her to him and turned her around so her back was pressed to him. And she shifted her face and he began to kiss her.

Time was running out for both of them. A war was brewing.

The next morning, he pried himself from bed, and got ready. That bastard had requested for company- and who do you think would have to go now?

"Where are you going?" She murmured.

He looked at her reluctantly. "An old acquaintance wants to be shown around PLANT. He could go anytime he wants, with anyone, and yet they send me and Dearka. Ridiculous, really."

Shiho smiled, the sleep still clouding her eyes. "It's a good chance though."

He nodded stiffly. Both of them, his closest comrades even, had survived the way with little more than scars. And now, there was another war. Would their luck run out this time?

"In two weeks time," Yzak said softly, "We will be recalled to the Voltaire. The Voltiare is a key mothership in the coming war."

She curled up. "I know. Are our days numbered?"

There was disillusion in both of them, and their hands had been long stained with blood. And yet, they could not leave the army, and they thrived, she in the oil of the factory she worked in that came out with model after model of killing machines, and for him, in the darkness of the cold, empty space where debris and corpses littered the scene.

"If they are," He said firmly, "We make them count at least."

He would not allow them to go without a fight. And the war would bring sorrow and pain all over again, but the difference was that she was his and he would truly have someone to protect. And then he knew what he had needed all along. He had needed a reason to fight, something to believe in. He believed in her.

"Shiho," Yzak said grudgingly, "Drop your damned pride and marry me."

She bolted up, her eyes wide. "What the hell?"

"See now," He said impatiently, "You were against the decision our parents' made to have us together because it gave you no freedom to decide. And in the end, we're together aren't we? So that proves it made no difference whatsoever. And with the days going by like this, we might never have a decent chance to be together as long as war calls for us."

He stopped suddenly. He had just done the unthinkable. In saying what he had, he had admitted that there was fear in him. His mother would have throttled him, and the ancestors before her. Joules did not admit to being human.

He had just proved that they all were.

Shiho looked upset. "Don't be rash. It's good enough that we're here. And you're taking it too far and too fast."

He smirked. "What do you mean? It's not like we haven't had a history or we haven't-,"

"That's enough," She said hurriedly, looking slightly too flustered for her to blame the morning blues, "You're running late. Go. We'll talk some other time."

Frustration gripped him. Damn women.

Naturally, he took it out on Athrun. That man had it coming.

The minute the door was flung open, he lunged for Athrun, hollering, "Athrun! You bastard!"

Dearka laughed and pulled them apart. Athrun was already straightening, adjusting himself with a rueful smile.

"Yzak."

"Athrun Zala." Yzak said furiously, "You chose this day of all days to go sight-seeing? And for God's sake, you aren't a stranger to the Plants, so why do you need escorts? And why us?"

He gestured to Dearka, who was smiling lazily.

"I didn't ask for an escort," Athrun said queasily, "But the Chairman insisted."

The gears moved in Yzak's head. First, Athrun was perfectly capable of protecting himself. Second, the chairman had no relation to the Zala family whatsoever, and sucking up to the last member of the Zala House would be quite futile. Third, if it was the Chairman Dullindal, there would be a sort of hidden agenda. The summon Yzak had received had proven that already.

He stared at Athrun. Athrun hadn't changed much, only that he looked older and had no faint frown between his eyes. But there was no mystery- today was an off-day for Athrun Zala, and Cagalli Yula Atha had probably been a good influence on him.

But then, who was Yzak to compare Athrun's tendency to worry when he had a lethal temper himself?

"We should go." He turned to the door.

The graveyard was a place of beauty. The skylarks were soaring overhead and the wind was already sweeping the grass and playing with their tips so the dew twinkled and the flowers bowed to it. Stone lozenges lay in the groun, neat row after neat row, straight column by straight column, and it must have seemed like a chessboard from the sky. Yzak's footsteps, with the others, seemed like a meaningless endeavor upon softened, muted grass.

Athrun was not as relaxed as he had been in the car when Dearka had driven and Yzak had barked instructions to him so Dearka wouldn't take the wrong turns. Their firend had an uncanny knack for that sort of thing.

Now, they stood in front of the three stone lozenges they had marked out with a flower bouquet and a wreath that would last for some time. There was sorrow in Athurn's eyes- and suddenly, Yzak understood. He had come back to fight. Was he counting his days as well?

"The Chairman fought for us." He told Athrun, half to himself as well, "Or I would have been executed with many others. There are crimes committed by these hands that will stain the fingers for as long as I live."

Athrun nodded briefly. "He did, didn't he."

There was no room for question as to what kind of person Dullindal was- his charisma was obvious. But doubt still permeated his friend's mind, as far as Yzak could see. What was Athrun fighting for? What did he try believing in? What could he believe in when so many things had betrayed them already?

The same mash of doubt permeated his mind now. He wondered inside, whether Shiho had thought of the same things.

They stood in silence, watching the stillness of the place.

Athrun had returned to fight. Yzak would be sent to fight. Dearka would be in battle.

The stone lozenges gazed solidly at them, still in the movement of the grass and wind, perfect in oblong nature and somehow so small compared to the men who lay beneath them.

Were they waiting for something in the peace and calm of the beautiful memorial?

Yzak did not know, only that its beauty seemed hollow now.


End file.
